


Life Is A Hell Of A Thing To Happen To Someone

by MiaSif



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Archangel Castiel (Supernatural), Archangel Gabriel (Supernatural), BAMF Gabriel (Supernatural), Character Death Fix, Crack, Dean Winchester Has Abandonment Issues, Dean Winchester Ships Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Gabriel & Dean Winchester Friendship, Gabriel Loves Sam Winchester, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, In case you can't tell author definitely has a favourite character, It's Gabriel, Joanna Beth is a bitch, Light Angst, M/M, Mother Nature Definitely has a bone to pick with Chuck, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Has Self-Esteem Issues, Season/Series 15, Slow Romance, Spoiler Alert - Freeform, Suicide Attempt, Vulcan Mind Melds, building an army, that's why I got rid of her
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 45,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23835973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiaSif/pseuds/MiaSif
Summary: The one where Billie decides that it's time for the boys to have a win.
Relationships: Amara (Supernatural)/Billie (Supernatural: Form and Void), Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Crobby, Crowley & Bobby Singer, Crowley/Bobby Singer, Destiel, Gabriel & Sam Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Michael & Adam Milligan, Michael/Adam Milligan, Midam - Relationship, Sabriel - Relationship
Comments: 179
Kudos: 187





	1. Albert Pine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JCapasso](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JCapasso/gifts), [entanglednow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/gifts).



> For two authors who help me get out of my head on a daily basis. I appreciate you both more than you know. Thank you for such wonderful and inspiring works.

_what we do for ourselves dies with us. what we do for others and the world remains and is immortal._

There are many things that could be said regarding the archangel Gabriel. If you were to ask Dean he’d steadfastly argue that Gabriel was a coward, that he could have done more- _should_ have done more. If you were to ask Castiel he’d probably give you his _disappointed-in-his-own-brethren_ face. But if you were to ask Samuel, _call me Sam_ , Winchester he’d give you his furrowed brow and puppy dog eyes (that worked on _everyone_ , thank you very much) and gently explain that there was always more below the surface. 

He’d explain how sometimes we can keep the bad memories, the PTSD, the trauma we've endured, at bay but that it never completely disappears, that it’s always there, bubbling like mad just below the surface. 

And that’s where our story begins. 

Billie, aka Death, had given this notion plenty of thought. Gabriel wasn’t in any of the remaining books, his reappearance wasn’t foretold so why was he even on her mind? Why was he even a consideration? The only conclusion she could come to was that when she took on Death’s role, all his memories and infinite knowledge had transferred to her and Death had been very fond of Gabriel. And thus she took a page out of Dean Winchester's book (the metaphorical one not the physical one) and had decided that just because something didn’t appear to be an option it didn’t mean it wasn’t. If Dean had found an alternative to his alleged Ma'lak Box eternity then she could do this for Sam. 

Billie hadn’t thought she cared about the Winchesters all that much but, again, Death’s own thoughts came to mind. How much they influenced her remained to be seen. Death had once told Dean that humans could barely be viewed as anything more valuable than bacterium when in reality he’d regarded them as heroes. Because true heroes, like Hercules, weren’t measured by the size of their strength but by the strength of their hearts. And _that_ the Winchesters had in spades. Were Billy ever to fully examine her own feelings concerning the brothers, she would have found that she also regarded them in high esteem.

She walked amongst the books, gently touching the pristine spines as she considered her plans. She never realized how much the Winchesters had impacted her until she chose option D for dumbass and had strode into the Empty- completely bypassing The Shadow without so much as a sideways glance. She was done thinking-it was time for action.

She peered at the form lying prostate at her feet and gently prodded him with her scythe. 

“What are you doing?” the Shadow asked, appearing to her right. It wasn’t asked in the usual sarcastic tone It used on everyone. Held none of the usual rancor or disdain that it generally regarded everyone with. Instead It was curious. For that reason alone, Billy actually turned to It and responded. 

“I’ve decided to wake Gabriel.” She said, simply. She didn’t bother to give any explanations, she didn’t need to. She was Death. She was free to do whatever the fuck she wanted. The Shadow didn’t respond merely stared at her for several moments- the fluidity in its form gently cascading to and fro. Billy, even without her vessel, didn’t look like that and for a moment it unsettled her that The Shadow was truly something incomprehensible. Not omniscient or at least not way the Almighty was supposed to be…although were someone to ask Billy she wouldn’t hesitate to say that God was no longer what He once was. She hadn’t known Him but Death had and his memories didn’t reconcile with the Chuck she knew now. 

Perhaps names really did hold power, perhaps God’s own had begun to diminish the moment He began to go by Chuck. In any case, after another moment The Shadow gives her Its semblance of a smile. 

“That’s a good idea", It says. 

Billy snorts.

“I didn’t ask.”

The Shadow ignores her retort. 

“I remember Gabriel", It says instead. 

That makes her curious. 

“What do you mean, you remember Gabriel?”

The Shadow grins at her again, this time with slightly more bite to it. 

“He used to come visit me.”

“That’s impossible. He would have had to die and I would know if he had.”

It’s eerie, Billy decides, when something without shoulders shrugs at you. 

“He found a way. Even as a herald, he always was our little trickster.”

The Shadows grin has turned fond. It’s discombobulating. 

“Do you have feelings?” Billy asks suddenly. 

It’s surprising when The Shadow actually deigns to answer. 

“I am more than The Empty. I am Everything and Nothing all at once. I am Everywhere and Nowhere. I am the Beginning before there was and will be the End long after it Ends. You may be the one to reap God, but I will be the one who takes you, little Death. For I am who I am and who I am is-“.

It is cut off there by a groan. Both of the entities look down at the source. Said source is peering up at The Shadow with thinly veiled scorn in his eyes. 

He glances towards BiIlie. “Don’t get It talking” He pleas, albeit there’s a smile on his face. “It feigns to prefer silence but I know better.” 

Billy looks accusingly towards It. 

“I hadn’t raised him yet.”

Again, It shrugs. It looks as out of place as it did the first time. 

“I may have taken it upon myself.” It responds but It’s distracted, it’s eyes down towards Gabriel who is apparently checking to see if he’s still as limber as he remembers. At least that’s what it looks like to Billie. 

“Child, what _are_ you doing?” she finally has to ask. 

“Flexing my creative muscles" he responds, grinning brightly up at her. 

“Gabriel! No!”

She knows immediately what he’s alluding to as images of Gabriel depositing random never-before-seen animals on Earth’s surface at any given time flit through her mind. 

He laughs. 

“Too late.” 

She sighs, a left over trait of her humanity that seems to only pop back up around the Winchester’s and their respective angels. 

That reminds her. 

“I came here for a specific reason.” She tells him, somberly. 

He’s no longer smiling. 

“Let me guess, the world needs me again?”

Billy thinks about lying but ultimately decides against it. 

“No,” she says, gently. She crouches down before sitting down. The Shadow remains standing. 

“The world is barely hanging on. Your Father is intent on wiping everything out. He wants the Winchesters to kill each other. He’s already wiped out all the other Earths and spin-offs. The Earth you’re from is the only one left. 

I have all the books on how everything is supposed to end. You’re not in any of them. You’re an unprecedented variable. It remains to be seen how your presence will affect everything. Should you decide to hide, you’re welcome to, but should you decide to fight, well, we’d definitely appreciate it. 

There are a few more things you need to know"- she says, holding up a hand when he opens his mouth. 

She waits until he’s closed it and is instead looking at her expectantly. 

“Your brother, Michael, is out. He still has Adam but they are stable. He has offered his assistance to the Winchesters. Castiel is still with them. We recently returned Jack to them. Rowena is now the Queen of Hell, all the hunters that made it back from Apocalypse World are dead thanks to that world’s Michael. He inhabited Dean for a while and caused great destruction. Dean killed Lucifer.”

She stops. She knows it’s a lot to digest. 

“So why was I woken?” He asks lifting his head again. 

“I am not sure. You’ve been on my mind a lot. Death thought highly of you. And I don’t know- I had once told Dean that the only he could stop otherworld Michael from imploding ours was to get in a Ma'lak Box for eternity. That was how his book ended and I was under the impression that endings were not interchangeable. I was wrong. They found another way. So with you- you’re not written but why should we abide by that? Why not write our own books? Who says we must follow them? Who?” 

Billie is leaning on her scythe now, like she needs it to hold up the sudden weight she feels on her being. She almost feels _tired_ as impossible as she knows that is. 

“There is one other thing", she says hesitantly. 

He shakes his head at her. 

“Just tell me.”

“I’ve read all the books- even the ones that didn’t come to pass. In one of the alternate versions you were supposed to end up with Sam. I’ll deny this to my dying day but it seems wrong that both Winchesters shouldn’t end up with their respective angels.”

“Sam, huh?” he huffs out a laugh. “Should be interesting.” 

“Does that mean that you’ll do it?” 

A beat of silence passes. 

“How are you sending me back?”

“Fully juiced up.”

“My wings will be good again?”

“In perfect condition?” 

“Yes.”

Another beat. 

“It’s been a long time since I saw Michael.”

Billie focuses on the oldest archangel's location. 

“He’s in Italy.”

“Thank you.” He tells them before standing up in one fluid motion. 

“I'll call for you when I join the Winchesters.” He tells Billie. 

She nods and in a flap of wings he’s gone.   
  
There are people, _beings_ , that should never had died. They died solely for Chuck’s entertainment or to advance His story. Billie knows it’s beyond her job duties to bring anyone back- she’s Death for Chuck’s sake. And yet none of that matters. All that matters, suddenly, is gifting the Winchesters what they deserve for all the bullshit they’ve had to put up with from Chuck. But who to choose? How does she choose? Before she fully knows what she’s intending to do she’s standing before Dean, who to his credit, doesn’t even flinch at her sudden experience.

“What now?” he asks her, warily. Billie only stares at him for a moment, looking beyond him, looking _into_ him. 

“Your soul is still resplendent, Righteous Man.”

“That’s nice.” He says a tad sarcastic. 

“Touchy touchy". She says, smiling. 

It weirds him out, her smiling. His eyes narrow. 

“Is that you, Chuck?” He’s now familiar with Chuck’s tendency to change forms at his convenience. 

She shakes her head. 

“No. It’s me.”

He still looks concerned. She tries her hardest not to sigh but it escapes anyway. 

“Dean. If you could have everyone you’ve ever lost back would you want them?”

“What kind of question is that?” he says roughly, in that insouciant way of his. He’s been around too many entities to now regard any of them with the respect they’d receive from any other humans. Billie thinks she prefers it this way. 

Even so, she’s suddenly unsure. 

“I have no desire to see your soul or Sam’s warped. I saw what Chuck showed Sam. It doesn’t have to be that way. If you had more support, more people around it would help. So I'm here to offer it. Would you want them back? And if so, who?”

“I'm pretty sure my soul is already warped.” 

“It is not.” 

“Why are you offering this?” 

His question finally makes her mission clear. She may not have started out knowing what it was she was trying to do but now she knows.

“I think you need an army. You need support. You need multiple heads, ideas to follow and come together. I think you will succeed if you have the peace that comes from knowing everyone you love is alive and well.”

“And you want me to what? Bring them all back only to see them die again?”

Billie is stunned into silence before she laughs. 

“You have a way of making the oldest of beings feel incredibly foolish.” She admits to him. 

She wants to sit with him at the map table but she can’t. To sit at the table with Dean Winchester as though they are equals… 

_Pride goeth before fall_

Gabriel isn’t speaking directly into her head, instead they are memories again. Death used to watch him. Used to watch as he taught the most arrogant of people lessons so that they would remember their place. Not in comparison to him but in comparison to the rest of humanity. Still. The lesson is the same. 

Billie sits. 

“I don’t know.” She tells him, quietly. 

“I can bring anyone and everyone back, Dean. More than that, I _want_ to.”

She goes on to explain what Chuck had shown Sam. How, alone, they fall. Alone they fall into the darkness that they’ve stared into for far too long. 

“It seems that I don’t want you to lose hope.” She tells him. 

“I don’t want any of you to lose hope.” 

Dean blinks as the rest of his family is pulled from wherever they’d been. Sam looks startled, Castiel is impassive and Jack is just staring at her imploringly. Billie had made sure her voice had rung throughout the bunker and they are aware of why she’s there. 

“So? Who am I bringing back?”

“You still haven’t answered my question. Are they coming back just to be killed again?”

“I don’t know, Dean. I don’t even know if they would want to be brought back that many times. It wears down the soul to be yanked back and forth so many times.”

He snorts. “Do you even know how many times I’ve died?” 

“You are the Righteous Man. Your soul is significantly stronger than anyone else’s. Sam’s is too but even his lacks your strength. That’s why in Chuck’s future he’s the one who breaks first.”

Dean’s eyes spark with anger and Billie holds back her grin. Dean will never stand for anyone to badmouth Sam. Never. Theirs is a bond that was originally forged by Chuck but grew to proportions that not even He'd anticipated. 

“Sam is not weak.” He says firmly. 

She ducks her head to hide her smile. 

“My apologies. I did not say that offend you.”

“Anyway-“ he continues, cutting her off in his usual disrespectful manner, “maybe that’s where we should start then.” His plan serves well, reminding her of his innate intelligence. He doesn’t flaunt it, not in that subtle way that Sam still resonates. No, Dean has never believed himself worthy. That’s probably why he is. It’s a humility that can’t be achieved because it’s something you have to be born with. 

He is truly remarkable. Quite possibly Chuck’s greatest creation. 

She sees Castiel staring at him and she knows that he sees the same thing she does. 

“What do you mean, Dean?” she asks, her voice far more soft than anything she’s ever used with him. But she’s doing it with a purpose. She’s doing it in an effort to make him open up. She wants to see the brilliance in his tactical knowledge. She wants to know how he thinks. How his mind works. 

“What if we ask them? There are some who are happy there, in their heavens. Some who don’t want to come back. Can we ask them? Can we tell them what’s happening? Can we let them choose?”

The plan, though simple, is brilliant. A slow smile stretches across her face as she regards him. 

“I can’t give you a new life. Because this one needs you. But I do want you to know Dean that anything Sam could have accomplished you could have as well. You’ve proven that time and time again. You are special. A true hero. That’s something you’re born with, not something that can be learned. I hope you know that.”

She stands then unwilling to embarrass him further- the blush is already prominent on his face- and tells them all to write up lists of people they want given the opportunity to be brought back. 

“Are we going to get to ask them?” Sam speaks up for the first time. 

“Do you want to be?” 

They’d had a deal, a long time ago, before Billie knew all that she knew now. She’d promised that the next time either of them died it would be their last. Now she knows just how valuable and necessary they are to mankind, to _humanity_ and would never do such a thing but she still has to ask. 

“Well, most of our people won’t know who you are.” Sam responds. 

“Or they’ll shoot first and ask questions later.” Says Dean, a small satisfied smile on his face as though he were the one who personally taught them to be cynical about anyone arriving and promising good works. 

Sam has a point though, they both do, so Billie agrees not to leave them dead and they make plans for her to return later that evening. 

None of them thank her as she leaves and although at first it almost rankles she reminds herself that she’s not doing it for gratitude she’s doing it because it’s the right thing to do. 

With one last glance at the Winchester family she takes flight back to her base to break officiate a meeting with her Reapers. They are not going to be happy and yet, she cannot find it in her to care. 


	2. Joseph Campbell

_ find the place inside where there's joy, and the joy will burn out the pain _

"Hiya Mikey."

“I believe I have asked you numerous times not to call me that. My name is Michael. It’s literally my God given name, Gabriel.”

“Oh, relax. You still act like you’re doing Him some big favor by keeping it. What has He done for us lately aside from shit on our lives over and over and play us like fools?” 

Michael leans back and carefully closes the newspaper he’d been reading when Gabriel appeared out of thin air. He studies his brother for a couple of minutes- watches him fidget and hum below his breath and wriggle about as though the suit (human suit that is) he’s wearing is a couple of sizes too small. 

It’s enough to make Michael crack a smile. It’s still the same Gabriel he remembers. Who knew that knowing one of his brothers had remained the same would feel so good? 

“Don’t smile. You’re creeping me out.” Gabriel grumbles, immediately straightening out and forcing his body to relax. So relax, in fact, that he’s now slouching. 

Michael taps his fingers against the table- an old habit of Adam’s. “You wear your insouciance well, Gabriel. I can feel the rebelliousness coming off of you in waves.” 

“Are you going to cast me out for it?” The  _ too _ isn’t added but Michael hears it anyway. 

“And there’s the rub, isn’t it? Tell me, Gabriel, is it always going to be like this? Surely you know I felt you coming from thousands of miles away. I stayed because I thought we could let bygones be bygones but I won’t stick around for more fighting. I did what I thought was right at the time and yes, it’s absolutely crushing to find out I was,  _ we _ were nothing more than pawns in Father’s little game, but that doesn’t change anything. Even if that hadn’t happened, I still would have regretted it. I made a mistake, Gabriel. I know that now. Tell me, have you never made a mistake? Mine was colossal but regardless of that fact there is nothing I can do to take it back. Nothing. So, where do we go from here? Tell me, Gabriel. I will apologize to you and I would apologize to Lucifer and Raphael were they here but they are not. It’s just you and I and apparently merely a handful of others. The likelihood that we come out of our current ordeal is slim to none so I am begging you, brother, to please not allow the past to keep us apart. I am not who I once was. I am better. Far better.”

It’s horrifying to see someone of Michael’s high ranking caliber have tears that are threatening to spill over at any moment. But perhaps they do the trick because in the next moment Michael has a lap full of his little brother Gabriel and he’s being hugged so hard that even Adam grumbles his discontent and Michael struggles not to laugh at  _ tell him to watch how he handles the packaging.  _

Once Gabriel gathers himself the brothers sit and talk for several days, catching each other up on the many millennia that had passed since they got an opportunity to properly talk. The quaint restaurant that Michael had been having his coffee at was nice enough but eventually the hours had passed and they’d closed so they’d moved their party to Pompeii, to sit in a markets tent, sip tea made of leaves that no longer existed (although Gabriel did pack some to go so he could share with Sam- ignoring Michael’s questioning glance all the while). They talked and talked and talked until the inevitable subject comes up. 

“He sent a demon to  _ fetch  _ me.” Michael doesn’t do air quotes, like Cas, but Gabriel can practically see them anyway.

“Who?” Gabriel asks. It’s really not an important question but Gabriel lives for inane details. 

“Lilith", Michael says venomously. “Like she wasn’t bad enough during the Apocalypse. I felt like He'd sent her to put me at ease, to make me comfortable. As if.” 

Gabriel bites his lip in an effort to withhold the immanent laugh that threatens at seeing his brother spit to the side from where they sit. As though trying to rid himself of the unpleasant taste the mere mention of her left behind. 

“Apropos of nothing, brother, I’ve got to ask, where  _ did  _ you ever pick up these atrocious mannerisms from? If I didn’t know any better I’d have thought you’d been hobnobbing with the Winchesters.”

Michael looks at him sheepishly, looking uncomfortable for the first time. 

Gabriel claps his hands in glee. 

“Ooh brother mine, do tell. What juicy secret are you hiding?” 

He’s not sure what he’s expecting but seeing his brother unbind himself carefully and showing Gabriel the soul that lies within was not what Gabriel was expecting. He almost falls off the hay pile he’s perched on. 

“Michael!” 

“Wait- it’s not what you think!”

“Well, what is it then?” Gabriel asks crossly, trying to hide the full extent of his upset. He is (or was, whatever) the Archangel of Souls and this is not ok. 

From the look on his brother’s guilty face, Gabriel is sure Michael knows what he’s thinking about. 

“Please let me explain.” He begs, as though he were trying to stop Gabriel from smiting him. It’s enough to give Gabriel pause. 

He waves his hand. “Go on then.”

Michael hunches over, almost into himself. 

“You don’t know what the Cage is like, Gabriel. It’s cold. Very very cold. Empty, even more than Home's halls were and there’s barely enough room to stretch. It was built for one archangel, not two archangel’s and two souls.” 

Michael looks into Gabriel’s eyes, sorrowfully. “I don’t even know how Sam is up and walking. Lucifer was terrible to him. I had no idea our brother could be so cruel. I don’t know if all those years in isolation made him that way or if he was always like that but it from a human point of view, Lucifer would have been classified a sociopath. Anyway, after Sam's soul was recovered, Lucifer tried to come for Adam. By then Adam and I…we weren’t what you would call friends but we understood that we needed one another. He needed me for protection and I needed him for warmth. Lucifer has never been able to beat me. We had a showdown of  _ apocalyptic  _ proportions and I won. I kept my soul safe and I got to feel warmth.”

“So you just absorbed him?” Gabriel asks flatly. He understands what Michael is explaining but to do what he did- he runs a hand through his hair, that’s beyond blasphemy. That’s beyond the rules of heaven, of Earth, of their Father. The violation, the  _ desecration-  _ to do such a thing to a soul. It’s sacrilege. 

It’s also permanent and can’t be undone and Gabriel can only wince at the pain the soul must be in, stretched along the entire archangel, for no other reason than to be used as a blankie. The human mind wasn’t made to comprehend all the aspects that come with being an archangel. Gabriel shudders to think what Adam would be like even if there were a way to separate him from Michael. Perhaps that’s why there’s no way to do so, it’d be completely pointless. 

Gabriel closes his eyes, his entire being aching for the soul everyone forgot. 

But then-

“No, Gabriel. I didn’t absorb him. I would  _ never  _ do that.”

Gabriel’s eyes fly open. 

“But then?”

He doesn’t understand, the only other option would be-

“You  _ bonded?”  _

“Yes. But again, I can see in your eyes that you’re not understanding. Gabriel, Adam and I bonded because we’re very much in love with each other. In the Cage, there was nothing for us to do but talk. I learned so much about humanity and he, well, I’d daresay that not even Dean and Sam with all their familiarity with Castiel know about angels, our physiology, how we work, why we are the way that we are. Everything Gabriel. I let him in. And, most importantly, he’s still very much here. Would you like to meet him?”

Gabriel can feel his jaw on the ground. 

“You told him all our secrets?” It’s inspirational even though it’s something that’s  _ never  _ been done. Especially not with a human. 

But Michael is still shaking his head. 

“I did more than that Gabriel. I  _ showed  _ him all our secrets.” 

  
  
  
  



	3. Winston Churchill

_the further backward you can look, the further forward you will see_

Many _many_ moons ago, in fact before the existence of the moon (you can thank the Empty and Gabriel for that one- they wanted to create something that shone even in the dark and it is, to date, the only thing out of Its realm the Shadow can see) Michael, Lucifer, Raphael waited anxiously as the fourth was created. Looking back, Michael can acknowledge that what he felt at the time was apprehension and a sense of more responsibility being placed on him. He would never say, but the creation of Gabriel felt more like a burden than a joy. 

Lucifer was very excited, he had been excited to know he was to be an elder brother when Raphael was born but Raphael was nothing like the younger brother Lucifer was looking for and the novelty had quickly worn off. These days Raphael spent most of his time quietly trailing behind Michael or studying on how to become the best healer heaven had to offer. 

As soon as Gabriel popped into existence, Michael had inwardly groan, Lucifer had cheered and Raphael had said nothing, choosing instead to turn around and head back to his study. 

Michael almost followed but ultimately decided that as the _responsible_ older brother he should stay and introduce himself and such. 

He’d just have to catch him as the first thing Gabriel had done had been to shoot off into the sky leaving pieces of himself all over it. Some of the pieces sorta connected to one another, creating shapes of sorts. But for the most part the “order” they were in was as discordant as Gabriel or it was a pattern only he understood.

We still have those pieces of Gabriel up there today. We call them stars. 

Since inception, Gabriel did things his own way; instead of choosing one field to excel at, Gabriel chose them all. If he’d been human, he’d be one of those that knows a little about a lot of things but since he’s an archangel it translates to him being an expert on a lot of things. 

Father made him the Archangel of Judgment, Archangel of Souls; Archangel of something called a Monday. Gabriel had trilled at having some many titles. He was a happy archangel- even if he was tiresome. He skipped ahead into the future (and boy had Father been angry at him for that one- Michael hadn’t understood why then although now he knows it was because he didn’t want them to see how badly he’d fucked them over) and had been yanked back by Father so quickly he hadn’t been able to scope the place out beyond the market in Pompeii they were currently at. 

The market had held fruits, meats, and what ultimately became Gabriel’s favourite- desserts. After that it was rare to see Gabriel without a decadent dessert of some sort but his favourite was tiramisu. Considering that Gabriel had yet to take a vessel, carrying and eating said tiramisu was quite a feat all on its own, but as Gabriel would millennia later explain, the laws of physics were merely an inconvenience and he was above them. 

All in all, Gabriel was different. Perhaps because even then Gabriel was human to a degree no other angel had managed to achieve since him. 

His first glimpse of them, as infinitesimal as it had been, had left him fascinated. He’d babbled on and on about them as soon as he’d been taken back. 

“Small creatures, Mikey, but they’re not like us! They walk and talk and oh, they’re so wonderful.” Talking about humans always had Gabriel shining brightly. To this day, Michael doesn’t know if he loved them so much because he was the Archangel of Souls before they’d even been introduced to souls or if it was simply a Gabriel thing (as many things were). 

Either way, Michael remembers admonishing Gabriel for both skipping ahead when they’d been told not to and for calling him by the infernal “Mikey". 

“Would you like to meet him?” He asks again. He’s dangling Gabriel’s favourite fruit in front of him in hopes that Gabriel will take the bait. Gabriel throws him a shrewd look to let him know he’s fully aware of Michael’s recalcitrance in telling him anymore but throws him a bone by acquiescing. 

Michael quickly pushes Adam forth. Behind Adam’s mind he watches as Gabriel’s grace surges forth to cradle the soul, warming it, soothing it, giving it an _essence_ equivalent of a hug. A big hug. 

And he smiles again. Who knew that out all of them Gabriel and Castiel would prove to be the most worthy? 

“Nice to meet you too, Gabriel.” Adam says wryly. Most humans can’t feel their souls being hugged but being bonded to an archangel has left Adam more sensitive than most. He can feel what Gabriel’s doing. 

By the way Gabriel’s eyes shine brightly, Michael can tell he likes Adam already. 

“So you’re the one who managed to trap ol Mikey here, huh?” Michael rolls his eyes even as his brother laughs at his own joke. “How do you like it?” 

Michael feels his face split into a grin as Adam smiles back. 

“Love it. I’ve always had a thing for rockets and now I'm tied to one.” 

Gabriel laughs again and opens his mouth to say something else when they’re both yanked, hard, and then from one second to another they’re spinning in the ether. 

They can hear what’s happening before they’ve even arrived. 

_“I'm bringing Michael, Adam and Gabriel. We need to have a family meeting.”_ _It’s Billie, the new Death and Gabriel momentarily mourns his old friend who was killed by Dean Winchester because no one was safe when he had to choose between them and Sam._

_“Gabriel? Gabriel’s dead.” That’s Sam. It makes Gabriel smile that Sam would bring him up._ _He wonders if Sam has continued to let his hair grow._

_“Not anymore. Now do you have your lists ready?” it’s Billie_ _again_ _. What lists?_

_“Wait. Gabriel’s really back?” Sam is interrupting again._

But they’re there already. 

“In the flesh, Sammy.” Gabriel opens his arms wide and does a cheesy _I'm Alive_ dance move, jazz hands and all. 

“Oh my G- oh my somebody, you’re really alive!” 

Gabriel stops and arches a brow. He’s happy Sam seems happy to see him but this feels like a bit much. His eyes narrow. 

“Are you being sarcastic, Sammy?” 

Sam runs a hand through his very long luscious locks (that, yes! Are even longer). 

“No! It’s just- you were one my list and I had been worried I’d be told it wasn’t doable.” Sam’s babbling. Gabriel decides he likes it. 

Unfortunately before he can say anything else, Michael exclaims, loudly. 

“That hurt! Was that really necessary, Death?” 

“What? You mean to say you didn’t like being pulled through space and who knows what at the whim of some being that’s more powerful than you are?” Gabriel openly laughs at Dean’s not so subtle accusation. 

“You haven’t changed a bit.” He tells him, happily rocking back on his heels as he mock places a hand over his eyes as though to shield them. 

Dean scoffs. “Yeah, well you mooks haven’t either. And why are you covering your eyes, doofus?” 

Gabriel is about to say something glib but thinks better of it, something about it not feeling right. They are a family, he decides and he doesn’t want this one to be anything like his last one. 

Instead, the crowd stares in shock as Gabriel surprises them all by letting his eyes glow brightly. He allows a bit of his True Voice to seep through but protects their ears. 

“I'm not being facetious, Dean. Your soul still shines as brightly as the first time I saw you and Sam coming down Crawford Hall. You were already the Righteous Man then and you are still the Righteous Man now.” 

Gabriel, Michael, Billie, Amara, and Castiel all watch as Dean’s soul flares, hot and bright. 

_“_ _Noan_ _ne_ _lrasd_ _a_ _olpirt_ _”_ Gabriel recites softly before taking a step back to see Sam better. 

“And you, Sammy, well you’re a sight for these old eyes!” 

Sam rolls his eyes but smiles. 

Gabriel smiles back before turning to the right, where his Aunt is standing next to Dean. 

“Auntie Amara,” he nods, “you’ve aged spectacularly. Look at that flawless skin.” 

She grins at him. “Gabriel. You also haven’t changed a bit, nephew. Still one for flare and dramatics, I see.” 

“Most flamboyant angel in the garrison.” Dean quips. 

“Takes one to know one, Dean-o". Everyone laughs as Dean turns red and sputters. 

Except, of course, for Castiel who just looks on, confused as ever. 

“Hiya Cassie,” Gabriel waves. 

His smile widens as Cas looks at him, sternly. “My name is Cas, Gabriel. How many times must I ask you to not call me that?” 

“Join the club,” Michael interjects, “He has called me Mickey since he first heard that Father-awful nickname.” 

“Can we get down to business now?” Billie asks, looking at them like they’re all the bane of her existence, still there’s a tiny smile playing at her lips and her eyes are bright. 

Gabriel claps his hands in glee as he looks around, eyes ultimately landing on Sam. 

Oh yes, this is going to be fun.


	4. Dr. Thomas Fuller

_with foxes we must play the fox_

Sam can’t stop sneaking peeks at Gabriel, he wonders where he and Michael were because they’re both wearing a toga or tunic of some sort, gold sashes  around their waists, although Gabriel’s extends over a shoulder, the other shoulder is bare, because of course it is.  He’s thinking of asking where they were or  _ when  _ they were when Dean beats him to it. 

“Hey, Adam. Nice dress.” He snickers. 

They can tell it’s Adam who answers by the way his face loses its stoicism and his body relaxes. 

“Nice flannel, Dean.” Adam retorts , both brothers huffing out a laugh as they take a seat at the map table. 

It’s a good thing it’s so big, there’s Amara, Billie, Jack,  Castiel ,  Dean, Sam, Gabriel and Michael. 

“First things first,” Billie starts as soon as everyone has chosen a seat.  Dean sits at his normal place at the head of the table,  Cas on one side of him, Sam on the other. Gabriel is seated next to  Sam and across from him is Jack.  Michael sits next to Gabriel, Amara next to Jack and Billie is on the opposite end. 

“Do you guys want your own body?” she asks Michael and Adam.  They look startled at the question and then their eyes go momentarily vacant as they presumably discuss it amongst them. 

“Not normally, no, but in this instance, yes.” 

In the next instance another Michael appears next to Michael.  That’s Adam, Sam can tell.  Michael snaps his fingers and another chair appears. Adam smiles at him gratefully and takes his own seat. 

“Hello, everyone.”

A chorus of  “Hello, Adam" comes  back with the exception of Jack who says, “Hello uncle". Adam looks a little surprised  but smiles anyway. 

“Gabriel, when you went in search of Michael I came to the Winchesters and asked them to create lists of people they wanted brought back.  Your Father showed Sam a future , a disturbing one. He and Dean both become monsters.  For obvious reasons we cannot allow that to happen.”

Gabriel snorts. “Nietzsche . Talk about a morbid way of making everything come full circle. That’s your dad.” He points accusingly at Michael. 

“Nietzsche,” Michael repeats, “a  German  philosopher born in the mid 1800’s.” He sounds like he’s reciting it. Adam nods along approvingly, seemingly pleased that Michael remembered something he’d taught him. 

“That’s right,” Sam interjects and it’s Gabriel’s turn to look proud as Sam recites the quote he’d referenced. “ He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. For if you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss a lso gazes into you.”

“What is it meant to mean?” Jack asks. 

“That my brother has a twisted mind,” Amara responds, looking somber, “He’s turning the boys  into that which they’ve spent their whole lives fighting.  Turn them into monsters and that's what they’ll be remembered by, not  the fact that they’ve saved this little planet multiple times over.”

The bunker shakes then but before Sam , Dean or Adam can blink the angels are up and their blades are out. 

Amara looks at them with something akin to pride. “No worries, boys, there’s no way my little brother is coming in here. Take a seat.” 

“It took all of us to restrain you.” Michael points out. 

“True, but it wouldn’t have if He’d simply had Death  standing along with him.” Amara responds nodding toward Billie. 

“All powerful He may be but even He is no a match for both of us together." Billie adds , motioning them to take a seat. 

After a moment, the bunker stops shaking and there’s a knock at the door. Amara can’t help but laugh. 

“ He’s at  the front  door.” 

Before anyone can stop him, Dean is out of his chair and racing up the stairs . He stops at the door and throws Michael a dirty look when Michael advises him against opening it. 

“No shit, Sherlock.  This isn’t my first rodeo.” 

Michael looks at Adam. “You didn’t tell me about Sherlock.” 

“Sorry baby. Later I will.” 

They turn back to Dean who  looks at them like they’ve spouted another heard before glancing at  Cas and finally turning back to the door.

“What part of no do you not understand, Chuck?” 

“Come on, Dean.  I just want to talk.”

Dean scoffs, “Fuck you, Chuck.” 

They hear Chuck laugh. 

“Laugh it up all you want, Chuckles, you’re not coming in.” 

“Dean, Dean, Dean surely you know whatever plan  you’re concocting in there won’t be enough. I'm  _ God _ .” 

Sam knows Chuck is trying to goad Dean into spilling something, anything, about their plans but he also knows Dean is smarter than to play into his hands. 

Dean laughs back, mirthlessly. “Don’t be so quick to write us off, Chuck.  We’ve won against everyone, no reason for that to stop now. We’ll take you down too, you son of a bitch.” 

“Fine, Dean, play it your way, but I don’t want to hear any begging at the end. I won’t be so forgiving.” 

Dean turns and looks at Sam , something passing over their eyes as they communicate without words, the way they’ve always done. Dean nods and turns to  Castiel . They stare at each other for a full minute before Dean nods again and turns back to the door. 

“Chuck, what does  the Bible say that you are?”

“The I am.”

“More specific, Chuck.”

There’s quiet for several beats before Chuck answers but even then  He sounds unsure. 

“Love?” 

Dean nods. 

“And what will happen, you think, when you are no longer Love?” Dean asks quietly. 

No response comes but the entire group can feel when Chuck finally takes off. 

Dean comes and retakes his seat and then abruptly tells Billie and Amara, “At the top of my list is not a person but a thing. A pair of things, actually. I want  Cas's wings to be returned to him.  That dick,  Metatron , tricked him. I want him fully juiced up.”

Gone is the playful Dean of a few moments ago.  This is Dean, the hunter, the warrior, the mastermind.  This is Dean Winchester, the Righteous Man. 

“I'm not sure",  Cas begins, only to cut off by Dean. 

“They can,  Cas . They brought Gabriel back, they gave Adam his own body, they withheld Chuck, they can do this.”

“It’s true,” Billie says, “we can .”

“And I won’t even hold the fact that you didn’t do this from the get-go against you.” Dean tells Death,  anger  tingeing his tone.

“I'm sick of us having our string pulled like we’re puppets. We’re people, all of us. We all deserve respect and consideration.  Sometimes things aren’t about whether they should be done or not, it’s simply a matter of it being the right thing to do . And that’s something I’ve never understood from anyone not human. You guys all have these powers, these opportunities to do good for the world, for each other, and instead you sit back and wait until you have no choice but to  help. Why is it that since the beginning Sam and I have been the ones who go looking to stop the trouble before it starts  and all the while you were, what? Trying to end the world, playing tricks on the world, trying to take your anger out on your brother on our world, or simply sitting back?” Dean asks, looking in askance at Michael, Gabriel,  Amara and Billie. 

“I'm not expecting an answer. I just want you to ask yourselves why us _apes_ are the ones setting the example for everyone else who is supposed to be older, wiser, and omniscient?”

“I'm sorry, Dean.”  Cas says quietly. 

Dean runs a hand over his face. 

“I don’t mean you,  Cas . You’re here, you’ve been here, in the trenches with us, getting chewed up, spit on and booed off stage, at every turn. I'm talking about them.” He waves a hand at the rest of  the group. 

Sam sits up, instantly on alert when Billie gets up, the chair she’s sitting scraping the hardwood floor.  Dean stays as he is. At this point, there’s nothing he can do if he’s angered Death enough for her to retaliate. 

He just watches, somewhat warily, as she walks over to grab her scythe.  She holds it in a loose grip as she walks over to  Cas . 

Only then does Dean sit up. 

“Don’t hurt him.” He tells her, his voice full of underlying threat. 

She looks at him. 

“I'm not. Merely meeting your first request.”

She reaches out to touch  Cas on the shoulder and closes her eyes before simply tapping the scythe against the floor once. 

Dean shields his eyes as a bright light fills the room. When he reopens them  Cas's eyes are a bright blue and  he’s standing against the wall, huge dark shadows behind him.  He looks at Dean and grins. It’s a gummy smile. One Dean hasn’t seen nearly enough and his heart fills with warmth and love for his friend. 

“Thank you.” He tells Death, his voice infused with gratitude. “Really. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, Dean.” 

Billie retakes her seat and Cas simply appears back in his seat and Dean laughs. “Couldn’t walk the ten feet, huh? I'm really going to have to get you that bell after all, Cas. You’re going to be sneaking up on me again.”

“Thank you, Dean. I haven’t felt this good in a long time.”

“No problem, buddy.” Dean says, reaching out to clasp  Cas on the shoulder. 

“There is one thing", Billie starts. It sounds ominous enough that it makes Dean stiffen and his arm drops. 

Billie shakes her head. “It’s in reference to that, actually. Dean, we’re going to have to trust each other. All of us. We’re all we’ve got. I hadn’t realized it until your little speech just now but  regardless of how you look at it, we are a family. It’s time, as you said, that we started acting like one. No more suspicion, no more surprises, lies and betrayal. We have to trust each other, love each other, be  united on all fronts. It’s the only way we can win. Chuck is trying to separate us.  We can't let him do that. United we stand, divided we fall.”

There’s quiet for a moment as Dean stares at her,  his gaze weighted as he ponders her words. Finally he nods. 

“Agreed. I will stop assuming that you’re all assholes with ulterior motives and you’ll stop treating Sam and I like we’re too incapable of doing anything. We have, to date, ganked various gods, tons of dicks with wings , archangels too , demons, princes of hell,  the horsemen, Death and Hitler. We are very capable.” 

Billie chuckles even as some of the other beings  wince at his reminders. Sam merely rolls his eyes at yet another reminder of how Dean killed Hitler. 

“True enough. We’ll keep that in mind, Dean.”

“Sounds good. Hey, shorty, mind snapping us up some food and beer ?” Dean asks  Gabriel. 

“He’s the  _ Messenger,  _ Dean, not an errand boy!” Sam chastises but Gabriel just grins  and snaps and then the table is full of everything any one of them might find appealing, including, yes, tiramisu for himself. 

“Pie, Sammy. It’s on my list.” Dean grins unapologetically at his little brother who shakes his head. 

“Is this...manna?” Cas asks, picking up a serving plate of what looks like something Dean can’t describe and has a surprisingly appealing smell. 

“Yep, just for you,  lil bro, since you’re our only picky eater.” 

“Thank you Gabriel.”  Cas says, looking touched. “I haven’t had any since Moses.”

“Moses!” Sammy exclaims. 

“Oh, shit. You’ve gone and done it now,  Cas .”

“Done what, Dean?” 

“Woken Sam’s inner nerd.”  Dean is mocking but he has an oddly pleased look on his face. Michael doesn’t understand it until a light probe into Dean’s mind shows him that Dean loves that Sam loves learning. 

“Hey! Who did that?” Dean asks accusingly. 

“What, Dean?”  Castiel asks, on alert. 

“Someone was just in my mind!” Dean looks at everyone suspiciously. 

“My apologies, Dean.  I didn’t know you will feel that.”

“Stay out of his head, Michael.”  Castiel growls. 

“Yeah! What he said.”  Dean says, narrowing his eyes at him. 

“ Watch it, Dean.” Adam- sticking up for his own angel. Dean stares before laughing. 

“Well shit. We’re all protective sons of bitches, huh?” Dean shakes his head, ruefully before tossing a quick “thanks, short-stop" at Gabriel and digging in to his pie. 

They eat in silence for a couple minutes before Dean digs a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket and  nudges to Sam to pass it along to Billie. 

“That’s my list.”

Billie receives it and opens it. The list reads as follows:

  1. Cas's wings and angel-ness
  2. Bobby
  3. Charlie
  4. Crowley
  5. Ellen
  6. Jo
  7. Meg
  8. Kevin Tran
  9. Ketch
  10. Ash
  11. Henry Winchester
  12. Benny
  13. Missouri



“Meg" has been written in, scratched out and then written in again. 

“The demon?” Billie asks in surprise. 

He shrugs. “Ultimately she was on our side.”

“And Crowley?” 

“He was our friend.”

“Not your mom?” Amara interjects.

Dean shrugs. 

“I didn’t put either of them. I figured she’d probably be on someone else’s list and I don’t want John here.”

“Here you go, Death.” Jack pulls out his own list and there’s only one person on his list. 

  1. Mary Winchester



“Not your own mom?” Billie asks. 

Jack shakes his head. 

“I met her in heaven. She’s happy and she doesn’t really know anything about our world so I'm leaving her alone. ”

Castiel pulls out his own list, his reads close to Dean along with some angels who had died at his hand like Duma. Dean's absolutely not even a little bit jealous when he sees Mick Davis on there as well . 

Sam’s is the most surprising. His list is almost fully compiled of fallen angels, not counting Bobby who is on Dean’s list as well as  Castiel’s .

  1. Gabriel
  2. Bobby
  3. Mom
  4. Charlie
  5. Kevin
  6. Crowley
  7. Balthazar
  8. Alfie 
  9. Kaia
  10. Gadreel



Billie looks them over before glancing at Amara who nods. 

“We can work with this,  Winchesters . ”

Dean grins, his mouth full of pie, “Great,” he says, “let me finish my pie and we’ll get to work.”


	5. Anthony Brandt

_other things may change us, but we start and end with family_

Dean has, Sam muses quietly as he watches his brother talk to the beings sitting around the map table like if they were just other humans, a way of commanding. It’s not in Dean’s nature to talk at length aside from inane comments and dry  humour (usually at his expense), but when he does people , or beings he should say, listen.  He’s always been the leader of their little duo and even when  Cas came along and much  much later, Jack, he’s still leading. 

He’s smart and articulate in a way Sam still hasn’t learned even after all these years.  A quick learner and unafraid of getting down and dirty. To know that in the future Chuck showed him it was once against his fault that  their little duo perishes the way it does, well, it’s almost not surprising. He was responsible for the first Apocalypse,  it makes sense that he’d be the responsible for their demise as well.  Because, Dean, as strong as he is only bends to one thing. Sam. 

Sam sighs inwardly.  It’s like he doesn’t know how to make good choices. 

His pity party is interrupted  by Billie who announces that instead of them going up to heaven where they are notoriously unpopular she’ll just bring the  souls and beings to where they are so they can be questioned. Makes sense to Sam  so he nods after deferring to Dean first. 

“There’s also the matter of Lucifer and Raphael. I wasn’t going to bring them up because I assumed no one wanted them but in the spirit of  unification I'm asking anyway.” Billie states. 

Sam shudders and immediately shakes his head.  He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over living through Lucifer’s atrocities  and really hopes he doesn’t get outvoted. 

“I loved who my brother once was but if this whole little crusade is so that the Winchesters  continue to be humanity’s champions I don’t really think it’s in our best interest to bring Lucifer back.”  Gabriel states quietly. 

“But if we need him, I understand.” Sam relents. 

“ Sam. You and Dean have both bent more than over backwards to put the world first.  Please let us find a different way of making up his power. We want this to be good for you and my brother really wasn’t.”  Sam turns to look at Michael who looks at him meaningfully. Sam turns away, unable to face the person who  witnessed everything first hand. Shame covers his face and he can’t hide it.

Until his best friend speaks up. “Sam,” Cas starts, “Dean once spent a whole summer of love with _Crowley_ and I once showed up on Baby _naked in front of Dean.”_ It’s enough to make Sam huff out a laugh and he thanks Cas with a grateful glance even as Dean groans and wonders aloud why everyone always feels the need to remind him of that. 

“Crowley showed us the video of you singing  that you were too sexy for your shirt, Dean.” Sam laughs as Dean turns red when Michael states he’d like to see the video . 

Everyone laughs before turning back to the matter at hand. 

“We can make  Castiel an archangel.” Michael surprises them by  going on to explain that he had the know how since he’d been there when his Father made the others. 

“Excellent”, says Billie,  “that would really help. I had thought about that but  I'll admit that I don’t know how.” 

“My brother mentioned it to me but I wasn’t there either when He did it, so I don’t know how either , ” Amara admits , “but I do remember Him saying that a purpose had to be assigned. ‘A designation for each angel ', He said.”

The table is quiet as they ponder before Gabriel exclaims that he’s got it. 

“What about the Archangel of Humanity? Cassie here has essentially been that since He met Dean, wouldn’t be much of a stretch.” 

The rest of them agree and  Dean notices how touched  Cas seems to be viewed as one of them, one of humanity’s champions. 

“Raphael was once Heaven’s greatest healers but  with Jackie Boy here we don’t need his power. I could just teach him how to control his power better.” Gabriel says. 

“We both could.” Michael says , acknowledging Jack, who for the most part has been sitting there  quietly just taking everything in. 

“I don’t know,” he says, uncertainly, “I'm pretty destructive.” 

“Hey now,” Dean interjects roughly, “we all have the power to  destroy. I once foolishly took on the Mark of Cain and almost killed Sam and  Cas .”

“I released Lucifer and started the first Apocalypse.” Sam adds. 

Cas nods, “I swallowed all of purgatory and released the Leviathan. I thought I was God,  made Sam, Dean and Bobby bow before me and when they wouldn’t I broke Sam’s hell shield wall.” 

“Damn.  Y’all are all fucked up.” Adam says, shaking his head , “how are  y’all still together?” 

“According to Gabriel, through an irrational and unhealthy amount of codependency,” Dean  says, sardonically. 

“What we’re trying to say, kid, is that we’ve all made mistakes. You won’t be any different, but you’ll learn and you’ll be all the better for it. ” Dean continues on, addressing Jack. 

“And you don’t want to kill me for being a  Nephilim or being Lucifer’s offspring?” Jack asks Michael in that blunt way that  Dean knows he picked up from  Cas . 

“Maybe at one point, but I can see that you’re pure. Really pure actually.  Actually, I think we can all see that.” Michael replies, smiling at his nephew. 

“Thank you, Uncle.” Jack responds .

“You have a lot of family backing you up, Jack. We believe in you.” Billie states. 

Jack nods before making the table laugh when he asks Amara if he can call her “grandmother". 

“What?” he asks innocently. I have my dads,  Mary was my grandma, I have uncle Sam, Gabriel, Michael, and Adam.”

Jack looks on, identical looks of confusion etched on his and  Castiel's face even as Dean once again sputters and everyone else let’s out  peals of laughter. 

“You’re alright with me, kiddo.” Gabriel says,  hand swiping over his eyes. He looks at Sam. “That was too perfect.” 

Sam takes another look at Dean’s face and agrees. “It really was.”

They all settle down again and as he sits there and looks around something in Dean’s heart lifts and he feels hope for the first time in a while. Who is he to be sitting here where there are more entities than humans and every single one of them is family? His mind flashes back briefly to the first time he met Cas. All the sigils he and Bobby had taken the time to etch in that  ramshackle old barn and still Cas just walked through every single trap they’d known to put up, powerful and omniscient in his own right. 

_ “You don’t think you deserve to be saved.”  _ Cas hadn’t asked him if that was how he felt. He’d told him. Within minutes of knowing him, Cas had understood Dean more than anyone ever had. What had he done to deserve such a companion? Even with all the information he had from Chuck, knowing that Cas had been brought back repeatedly just for him, as a way to manipulate him...was it a form of Stockholm to have the slight inclination to want to thank Chuck anyway? Dean didn’t know but a half-cocked idea did form to do it anyway, if for no other reason than to yank Chuck’s chain. Let the old bastard know that even though He’d fucked with Dean his entire life, it almost didn’t even matter because he got Cas out of it. 

_Joke’s on Him,_ Dean thinks glancing at his friend, a smile playing at his lips. Cas is looking at him as he is prone to do and for the millionth time Dean can’t help but get sucked into his eyes. Once upon a time he’d have claimed to not have a favourite colour. He didn’t have time to think about such trivial things...and yet, even as his life got busier, apparently his brain learned how to multi-task because somewhere along the past dozen years he’d developed a specific fondness for blue. Not just any blue, of course, but cerulean blue. A blue that put clear ocean water and turquoise shallow ends of wading water to shame. Were anyone ever to randomly ask Dean where they could find the bluest of blues, he’d easily have the answer. He’d simply direct them to Cas’s eyes. 

It’s only when he hears a pointed  _ ahem  _ that Dean realizes there’s a  full-on goofy smile on his face and he’s still staring into Cas’s eyes. He can’t even bring himself to care anymore. Life, especially his, is too fucking short. He turns back to look at his compatriots but not before he winks and smiles broadly at Cas. He meets Sam’s questioning glance and he just shrugs. There’s nothing to be done for it. Dean’s just come to terms with something very important. Meg was both right and wrong. Dean doesn’t need to think of Cas as his unicorn because he’s an angel- a creature of myth and Dean will do anything to keep him. 

Even if it means dying for him.


	6. Kahlil Gibran

_out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars_

It’s really to the surprise of no one that the first person the boys chose to bring forth is Bobby. Billie does her little tappy thing against the floor and Bobby is there, looking the same as ever, cap and all. 

“What?” he says, gruffly. “Who’d you idjits piss off now? And why do I feel like I'm coming in front of a bloody tribune?” 

Dean is the first to let out something that sounds like a half sob/half laugh. 

“It’s damn good to see you, old man.” 

“You’re looking a little peaked yourself. How old are you now? 50?” 

At the old man’s candidness, Dean laughs and it's a joyful thing that rings through the room. 

Bobby greets Sam and Castiel and then looks narrowed eyed at Gabriel, eyes widen at Michael and he glances at Billie, Amara, Jack and Adam, his eyes still sharp (for a technically dead man) and assessing. 

“What’s with the welcome party?” 

Dean doesn’t know how to do the introductions. Luckily (or not, depending on how you look at it) he’s got Cas and Jack to help him out. 

“I'm Jack.” Jack says, bright eyed and innocent as ever. 

“So?” Bobby asks. 

“He’s our son.” Cas “clarifies". 

Bobby catches on to the “our", Dean knows because his head practically whips back to Dean. He smirks and rocks back on his chair. 

“What? Surely you had to know it had to happen at some point.” 

Bobby gives him his patented _you’re an_ _idjit_ look. “I guess technology must be more advanced than I thought. In my time two males didn’t equate baby no matter what.” 

Dean laughs. “Did you happen to compute angel into your math?” 

"Technically," Jack inserts, ever so helpfully, "Lucifer is my bio dad. But Dean and Cas are my _dads."_

Dean is barely hearing anything at all because inside Dean is reeling. Bobby seems completely unfazed by the idea of Dean being with Castiel _like that_ and, damn, if Dean had known how cool he would be he would have done this a lot sooner. Instead he’d let John’s voice infiltrate his mind way more than he had any right to. _Begone_ he told it now. He didn’t want to think about John. At all. 

Bobby smiles at him, the closest thing Dean’s ever seen to a soft smile gracing his face. “Good for you, son. You deserve it.” 

“Now”, Bobby continues, “someone want to tell me what the trickster is doing here?” 

“That’s-" Sam starts, only to be cut off by the archangel turned trickster turned archangel. 

“I can introduce myself but thank you for looking out for me, Samshine.” Gabriel tells him before winking and turning to Bobby. “Archangel Gabriel at your service.” 

“I thought you were dead.” Bobby tells him flatly. 

Gabriel shrugs, “Meh. It wasn’t good for my health.” 

Bobby stares at him for a minute before addressing him again. 

“Soooo, Sam?” 

“That’s the plan. Do I have your blessing?” 

Bobby scoffs. “Like you need it.” 

Gabriel surprises Dean by being uncharacteristically serious. 

“I don’t but I’d like it anyway.” 

For two whole minutes Bobby stares the archangel down. If Dean didn’t know any better he’d have said they were having a telepathic conversation especially because afterwards Bobby says “Very well then but you hurt him and Dean will hunt you down to the ends of the Earth and I will help him.” 

It’s only then that Sam speaks up. “Hey! Don’t I get any say in this? I feel like I just got sold for ten chickens.” 

Gabriel laughs. “Nah Sammy, I threw in an ox too.” 

The look that Sam throws Gabriel combined with an arched brow Dean has only ever seen Cas use actually makes Gabriel turn a bright red and Dean can’t help but feel squeamish. “Ew, brain bleach. Please stop whatever you’re doing.” 

“Bobby!” He quickly moves on trying to erase the imagery away with nothing but sheer determination, “This is Billie, aka Death. She looks a little different because I may have accidentally killed the Death you knew. Sorry, I was a demon at the time. This is Amara, Chuck’s sister. Chuck is God. He’s an asshole. And you know Michael, he’s cool now…or at least Adam removed the stick out of his ass and replaced it with- yeah no, not going there either. Fuck, I need more brain bleach.” 

“What the hell did I miss?” Bobby asks, the shock clear on his face. 

Dean opens his mouth again but Billie speaks up. “As much fun as this has been, we need to speed it up, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover. Singer, I brought you here because we’re about to go into battle and the boys are going to need all the help they can get. I let them choose who they wanted brought back and obviously they chose you, but the choice is ultimately yours.” 

Bobby stands, processing, before turning back to look at Sam and Dean. 

“You still want me here? Even after-" his voice trails off, probably wondering what they’d want to do with a monster like him. 

“Bobby,” Dean begins, quietly, “we’ve almost fucked Earth over irreparably several times. What happened to you wasn’t your fault and I'm not even remotely exaggerating when I tell you that we’ve missed you. Please come back.” 

“Please.” Sam adds, also quietly but firmly. “Dean still doesn’t like research and Cas and I can only do so much." 

“If you’ll have me, being here with you two is never an option I’d pass up.” Bobby says, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. Not quite I-love-yous but for them three that was fucking good enough. Dean thumps his palm against the table happily and turns to look at Billie. 

“We’ve got Bobby back. Chuck’s not going to know what hit him.” 


	7. Erich Fromm

_the ultimate choice for a man, in as much as he is driven to transcend himself, is to create or to destroy, to love or to hate_

Everything happens pretty fast after that. Charlie chooses to come back, Kevin does too, as does Ash. Meg  is still  her normal truculent bitch self and  the first thing Ellen does is slap Dean on the back of the head. Jo is still  a thorn in his side and her first course of action is to let Dean know he looks old now.  At the look on  Cas's face, Dean takes it upon himself to introduce Jack to her as his son. 

“With the angel?” 

“ Cas . Yes.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. 

“Good for you.”

His eyes soften. “I'm glad you’re back, Jo.”

She laughs but without much  humour . “I guess time will tell on how long I last  on your newest crusade.”

He looks at her but nods. He understands the bitterness. He’d be bitter too if he’d been left behind to blow himself up. 

“Did my death even do any good?” She asks. 

He could lie to her but he won’t. “Aside from letting us know we couldn’t kill Lucifer with the Colt, no, not really.” 

“Guess we can’t all have God at our backs ensuring that we’re the heroes in every story.”

He hesitates. “You sure you want to be back, Jo?” 

She spreads her arms in a  _ what  _ gesture. “What’s the alternative? You’ll have Death kill me again?” 

Dean would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a little attacked but luckily Sam steps in. “I walked away too, Jo.”

“As did I.”  Cas adds. 

She scoffs. “Neither of  y’all are Dean.”

“I can make it painless.” Billie surprises Dean by speaking up. She is giving Jo a look that Dean is very  very familiar with having been on the other side of it too many times. It’s her don’t fuck worth me look,  brow and all. 

Dean see the muscle in Jo's jaw ticks and he sees Ellen come to the same conclusion he does. Jo doesn’t want to be here. He smiles at Ellen sadly, knowing instinctively that if Jo goes she’s going to go too. 

“What are you doing, Joanna Beth?” It’s Bobby, coming around the corner. 

She runs her hand across her head. 

“I don’t know Bobby, I feel like I don’t belong here. Life was such a long time ago and  I don’t really think I'm needed so why am I here?”

“My grandfather tried to make Dean kill me. He thought it would make a good story. Make everything come full circle, whatever that means. But Dean didn’t because Dean always knows what the right thing to do is.  If he chose to bring you back it’s for a reason.  You don’t want to see how it’ll play out?”  Jack’s voice carries through the room. 

“Dean’s old enough to be my father now.”

Jack’s brow scrunches up and Dean thinks he probably didn’t understand that but Jack surprises him by responding. 

“Even if he weren’t, you wouldn’t stand a chance against  Cas . They have a profound bond. One  not foretold by destiny or fate but just as strong, if not more because  it’s been  forged through  fire, sweat, blood and tears.  And in Dean’s case, a lot of whiskey.”

Sam laughs at that and the mood in the room lightens a little bit but it’s still tense. Dean wants nothing more than to run away but he can’t. He has to put a stop to this before  it goes any further. He doesn’t want Jo to think that his lack of response means there’s a chance. Because there isn’t. There’s only  Cas and Dean’s already played the fool once. 

“I wanted you brought back because we’ve always known you died unfairly. For a fight and in a war that was never really yours. But to answer your unasked question, the answer is no.  No chance. I truly hope that wasn’t going to be what you were going to base  _ being alive again  _ on, Jo. ”

“That’s right, Dean. Stick up for your man.” It’s Charlie and as always she makes Dean laugh. 

“She brings up an interesting point.” Jo breaks in. “Since when are  gay?”

Dean feels his face flaming.  _ Fuck.  _

“We are  powerful  multi-dimensional waves of celestial intent.  As archangels, all three of us are heavens deadliest weapons. I can, for example, blink and destroy the at least half the world if I so chose. ” Michael says,  cooly . 

From the wide eyed look on Jo, it’s clear she hadn’t given that much thought. 

“Down boy, I'm sure  she didn’t mean it the way it came across.” 

Jo looks at him. “You’re an archangel too? At least Michael and  Castiel look like angels, what happened to you? Didn’t eat your spinach? Why didn’t you grow up ‘big and strong'?”

Dean watches as the  _ Messenger  _ just smiles at Jo, who definitely doesn’t deserve it. 

“Meh,” he says, “I like the irony of knowing that  this small body packs quit e the wallop, by human standards anyway. Besides I'm the Archangel of Judgment and resident Trickster. Much easier to let people come for me when they don’t think I can lay them out flat  multiple times in the amount of time it takes for you to blink.” 

“But you can’t destroy half the world?” 

Dean has no idea why Jo is pushing or what she’s getting at but he’s starting to feel irritated. From the look on Sammy’s face he’s already there.  Dean hides a smile and waits. It’s always better when Sam gets mad. People expect it from him, they don’t expect it from Sam. 

“Yes and no. I'm the smallest of the archangels. Created solely to assist my Father and brothers in locking up my Auntie Amara. I guess dear old Dad didn’t figure I needed to be as powerful as Mickey here.  But, like I said, I'm also the Trickster. The power of a minor  pagan god boosts my archangel power so yes, I can level out the world. But I wouldn’t.”

“And  we’re just supposed to trust  you? Dean, by all points and purposes everyone in this room is a monster. When did you start colluding with them instead of killing them?”

“That is quite enough.”  It’s Sam.  _ Finally,  _ thinks Dean, looking his brother over. The can of his fancy IPA lager is crushed in his big moose paw and there’s a tick in his jaw that Dean knows to interpret as him about to blow his lid.  His back is rigid and his eyes are fire but what is (and has always been) the biggest indicator of Sammy’s  wrath is how quiet his voice gets.  The quieter the voice-the more hell to pay. 

Dean takes a quick look around trying to hide his smug smirk but the deadpan look on  Cas's face lets him know he’d been wholly unsuccessful. 

“I’ve been precog and telekinetic for the majority of my life. I’ve drank demon blood, had angels, demons, kings of hell, and God inside me, I’ve been dead more times than I can count and I’ve even been soulless. Since I was six months old, I’ve been a “monster", so tell me, Jo, at what point should Dean have stopped ‘colluding' with me?”

It’s important to note that at this particular juncture  there is complete silence throughout the bunker, the imagery that Sam has painted for Jo took place in everyone else’s head as well and  his older brother's smirk has  left the building. 

After a moment, Sam starts tapping his left forefinger against the table. Where he’d been looking at Jo before his eyes are now downcast. He’s lost somewhere in his own memories but he starts talking again. 

“Did you know that my own father told Dean that he should be prepared to have to kill me at some point? Because I would undoubtedly go over to the dark side?  Did you know that I drank over a dozen demons so that I could be a vessel to Lucifer himself? Did you know that I killed Dean’s daughter? Did you know that  killed Kevin, the prophet? I killed a prophet of the Lord.  Did you know that when Dean and  Cas went to purgatory I gave up on life- on my own  _ brothers  _ and  actually moved in with a civilian woman? Did you know my soul is held together with nothing more than an angelic version of  masking tape? What’s left of it? Did you know  I'm barely a person, barely human? ”

Dean watches in horror as his little brother wipes away a tear before getting up and walking out of the room. He’s barely  out of their field of vision when something invisible  slams Jo into the wall so hard it cracks. 

Dean tries to get up but he’s down by that same something. 

He looks around for the culprit but it soon makes itself known. 

Gabriel is walking toward Jo, and if Dean thought Sam’s eyes were fire then Gabriel’s are  animated by pure electricity. 

“ This is the only warning you’ll ever get. If this  _ ever  _ happens again because of you,  I will make sure you die a slow and painful death. I will do it myself. I will  make sure you don’t go anywhere besides the deepest part of hell where there is  _ only  _ gnashing of teeth and the only thing  _ resembling _ ‘weeping' will be the continuous and ever-lasting screams of torment coming from your soul as I assign hell’s best tormentors solely to you.  I , the Archangel Gabriel, so do solemnly swear in the name of my Father. Do you understand, you stupid hairless  _ ape?”  _

Dean sees, eyes wide in shock, as Gabriel does a twisting motion with his hand and then snaps , sees Jo's body twist and contort, her mouth open in a silent scream. He snaps again and everything reverts to its  rightful place and she falls to the floor, gasping in air, tears streaming down her face. Gabriel bends down and grabs her, hauling her to her feet. 

“That’s just a preview of what I am capable of. On a pain scale of one to a million that barely equated half a point.  The horrors that await you are unimaginable. Now do you understand?”

Jo  nods and Dean feels his body get released. Ellen quickly moves to her daughter and Dean  stands but is unsure of what to do as his mind processes what just happened. 

He felt it when Gabriel did that oath. He was not even remotely playing. He would do all that to her because of Sam. That’s what keeps  coming back to him again and again. And in the end, he decides he’s satisfied. 

“Gabriel, can I talk to you for a minute?”

Gabriel gives him a short nod and follows him out of the room, just outside the door. 

Dean looks at him and takes a deep breath. 

“That swear was binding.”

“I meant it."

“You know why I have never been able to kill Sam even though, as he said, my father ordered me to?”

“Codependency?” Gabriel quirks a brow. He’s coming back to himself. Dean can feel it. 

Either way, it’s not relevant so he just shrugs. 

“Maybe. But I’ve always thought that it was because by then I was  almost 30 years old. I spent 30 years being told to protect Sammy at all costs.  So I did.” 

“Very interesting, Winchester, but it doesn’t tell me why you’re telling me this now.”

“Because you just protected him in a way I'll never be able to. I'm… thank you, Gabriel. Truly. And just so you know, you didn’t ask for my blessing but you certainly have it.” 

Dean doesn’t do chick flick moments so he heads back into the map room immediately. 

To no one’s surprise, Jo doesn’t stay. 

To everyone’s surprise, Ellen does. 


	8. Ben Okri

_the most authentic thing about us is our capacity to create, to overcome, to endure, to transform, to love, and to be greater than our suffering_

Michael and Adam sit quietly next to each other as family members, friends or simply a loved one comes forth. How some of the beings that come through made it to the Winchester's Most Trusted list is unknown. It’s almost uncomfortable having to have to tamp down his innate reaction to smite Meg on principal when she appears in a smoky haze. It peaks Michael’s curiosity when Meg’s first order of business is to acknowledge Castiel and give him a big hug, all the while exclaiming “Clarence!”  Michael glances toward Gabriel but even he seems relaxed about it. Michael shrugs to himself. Must be a pagan thing. And Castiel- well, from what he's heard he's accustomed to working with all sorts of unsavory characters. Seems he was even in cahoots with the King of Hell, not to mention Lucifer more than once. Michael knows he'll need more time before he understands.

Most of the people appearing don’t know about Michael or Adam and the Winchesters don’t seem inclined to tell their story so aside from the occasional glance and smile towards each other they mostly just watch the proceedings happening in front of them. Or at least Adam does. Aside from a glance or two towards the newcomers, Michael spends most of his time looking at him . A  sad look flitters across his face from time to time ; Michael knows him well enough to know that he’s thinking about his long-lost own friends and family, knows that he’s probably feeling a little lonely even as he’s technically with his own brethren. It is, of course, a feeling Michael knows well and he’s glad that he has the thought to reach over to clasp Adam’s fingers between his own. He’s never been able to before as they’ve always shared a body. 

Adam startles before looking down and then looking up at him. He gives him the widest smile to date and it makes Michael think there might be something to this separate body business after all. He smiles back and rubs his thumb across Adam’s hand in comfort. 

_ I love you, Michael.  _

_ As do I, my beloved.  _

Their sweet sentiments are left unmentioned by the other beings in the room capable of hearing them although  Castiel does look their way pensively, his head cocked slightly to one side in that trademarked way he’s prone to.  Castiel is...weird, Michael thinks. Even by angel standards. Take, for example, Michael himself. This was the longest Michael had ever spent amongst humans, barring Adam, but even he did not hover awkwardly the way  Castiel did. He shifted to and fro and it made Michael want to ask him if he had ants in his pants. 

“I do not understand that reference.”  Castiel spoke  out loud and directly at him. 

“What reference,  Cas ?” Of course, Dean was instantly at his side. 

“Ants in my pants. Michael is wondering if I have ants in my pants.”

Michael watches his former vessel’s eyes harden as they turn to look his way.

“Something you want to say?” 

So weird. Dean is  _ only  _ a human and yet everything around him bends to his will. Unbeknownst to him, Michael's head also tilts and he chews his lip as he concentrates on Dean’s soul, not even noticing when he’s diving in to see what makes Dean tick. Only, he can’t. Something stops him and he comes back into himself with a shake. Nothing much has changed although some of the others, including Gabriel, are looking at him a little warily. The only difference he can sense immediately, is  Castiel’s hand. It’s placed directly on Dean’s shoulder, the link between them albeit invisible to Dean’s human eyes is very visible to everyone else, possibly even Adam’s, Michael thinks. And right then his eyes are entranced by it as it weaves brightly between the two. From Dean the bond presents as green, from  Castiel blue and the two meet in the middle, electricity shocks coming from where the connection happens.  _ Pretty.  _

“I can’t let you do that.”  Castiel’s deep timbre draws Michael’s eyes up to meet his little brother’s blue ones. 

“I find it interesting that you were even able to stop me.” Michael says, because it really is interesting. It shouldn’t be possible. 

His brother hears his thought and he smiles just a little bit. “We have a way of accomplishing the impossible.” He says. 

“But  _ how?”  _ Because if Michael had been human he’d probably have been a scientist. He likes to know  _ how  _ things work. Things like souls. Which is why he was trying to see Dean’s up close and personal. He wanted to root around in it and see everything and how it all came together to make Dean  _ Dean _ _.  _

_ “ _ Our bond is exceptional. It’s withstood more than  mosts . Also, he is my charge. It is my duty to make sure he is protected at all costs. I will not fail.”  Unbidden the memory of what Naomi had tried to get  Castiel to do comes forth and Michael watches, in awe, as his brother kills hundreds of Dean replicas and yet, just when he should have been fully trained, he was unable to kill the real Dean. 

“Damn.” He says, Adam’s familiar colloquialism falling from his lips. 

“How did you know this was the real one?” He asks, still watching the scene play out. 

“If I tell you will you leave him alone?” 

“Yes.”

“Very well.”  Cas releases Dean’s shoulder and the bond flares still but it’s more subdued.  Dean is surprisingly quiet and Michael figures  Castiel has  communicated that everything is fine. 

“It’s because when Dean looks at me, his soul flares. Naomi screwed up because she didn’t include that in the other Deans. At first it was hard for me to kill them but once I figured out what was happening and realized what was missing it was easy to trick her into thinking I was ready. But Dean, real Dean, when we have prolonged eye contact, his soul flares in the most pleasing way. As soon as that happened, I knew it was the real one in front of me and I left.”

“Continuity errors will get you every time.” Sam interjects casting a knowing look Gabriel’s way.  Gabriel chuckles and puts his hands in his pockets. 

“Sorry, Sammy.”

“I know.” Sam’s smile is gentle and genuine in return. 

Michael turns his head fully Sam’s way. 

“He’s my charge too.” It’s  Castiel again.  Michael sighs. 

“Michael.” It’s Adam. His voice grounds Michael instantly and his body relaxes. 

He turns to Adam and suddenly being in two bodies, not being able to feel Adam’s soul, not being able to cradle it- it's too much. He feels ancient, old, and cold. He doesn't understand this world. He feels wetness in his eyes and he feels too big for the body he’s in . He feels it being yanked forward but he feels like he can’t breathe. And he can’t remember he doesn’t need to. Instead he’s gasping for air. Gasping for Adam’s soul. 

“ Noth -nothing b-b-but you  ev -ever feels right.” He manages to get out. 

_ Maybe they were right. Maybe I am crazy.  _

_ If you’re crazy then I am too,  _ Adam responds back telepathically since he knows that’s Michael’s preferred method of communication. 

_ Ok, then, maybe we’re both crazy. _

Michael feels Adam’s breathe huff out and it tickles his neck.  He realizes then that he’s sitting on Adam’s lap and he feels humiliation well up within him. How  little his brothers will think of him now, seeing him so damn discombobulated. He’s supposed to be better than this. He’s not human, he is by all points and purposes one of the strongest beings in this room, barring only Death and Amara. 

“ _Ti amo_ ”. Adam is speaking aloud in his preferred language, Italian. 

Michael can only hang his head in shame. 

“I'm going to kill Chuck". He hears Amara murmur. “Look at the damage He did. And for what?” 

He hears her sigh and for some unknown reason  it makes him feel better. 

He lifts his head and chuckles. 

“We’re a lot more like these humans than we thought, huh? Panic attacks,  sighing, feeling tired, blushing. We're not actually capable of those things, how powerful they must be that even though we are far above them, they are the ones influencing us?”

It's a rhetorical question and everyone knows it. Pressing a kiss to Adam’s cheek, he  whispers  _olani hoath ol_ and stands before turning to face the others. 

“Who's next?”


	9. John Steinbeck

_a sad soul can kill you quicker, far quicker, than a germ_

After letting Jo fall to the ground and his little chat with  Winchester I, Gabriel takes a deep breath, slowly lets it out and then goes in search of his  favourite Winchester.  He  _ gets  _ why Cassie chose  Deanie but it’s definitely a case of to each their own because there’s no way in heaven, hell, or anything in between that he’d ever chose anyone but Sam. 

He’d thought about it before but it was always just in passing until Billie. Billie cemented it for him and he was going to get his man if he had to be a good angel to do it. 

He sees Sam’s soul before he sees the man himself and it makes him fly there instead of continuing his  walk, as brisk as it had been. 

“Sammy?” he raps softly on the door. 

“Go ‘way.” 

Gabriel tries not to feel disheartened. It’s not personal, he hopes, it’s just the Winchester way. 

“Can’t do that, Sammy.”  He holds his voice firm and it does the trick because a couple of seconds later Sam is opening the door. 

“What do  _ you  _ want?” He’s not rude, he’s curious. Gabriel’s going to take that for the good sign it is. 

“Came to check up on you. No one likes a moody moose.” 

Sam stares at him for a beat.  Gabriel sees that although he’s no longer crying his soul is still in turmoil which is why the next question surprises him. 

“You would really buy me ?” 

Gabriel snorts. “For one ox?”

Sam nods, confusion marring his handsome face.

Ok, then. Serious is the way to go here. 

“Sam , you’re worth  way more than an single ox . All of the galaxies, the universes, the gold, the most precious and rare of gems.  You are worth the world in its entirety and I hope you never ask me for it.”

“Why?” Sam’s breath is shaky in its query, unshed tears making his kaleidoscopic eyes glitter. 

Gabriel leans against the doorframe.

“Because then where would humanity be when I conquered it and laid it at your feet?”

It’s cheesy but true and Gabriel figures that if Sam laughs he can play it off but Sam doesn’t. Instead a tear rolls down his cheek. 

“You really think I'm worth the world?”

“Kiddo,  if dear old Daddy hadn’t  already blown them to smithereens, I’d have also offered the other worlds  for you and even then I’d be getting you at a bargain.”

“But…I’ve, I’ve done so much bad.”

“ Have you though?  I'm more inclined to blame Father.”

Gabriel doesn’t want Sam to wallow in self pity. He wants him to be strong. He wants him to remember he’s Sam fucking Winchester  and that seems to do the trick because some of the lightness comes back to his eyes as he thinks it over, his ever brilliant mind turning the theory over and over in his mind,  analysing it through every possible angle. 

Gabriel waits. 

Finally , it seems Sam reaches a decision and he wipes his eyes as he lets out a shuddering breath. 

“You’re right. Of course you’re right. I'm sure some of the stuff that went wrong was all me but the big stuff? Nope, that was all Chuck.”

Gabriel nods and smiles before pointing with his thumb back towards everyone else. 

“You ready to go back?”

Sam nods. 

“Thank you, Gabriel.”

“No problem,  sweethot .” Gabriel says easily. 

He can see the gears shifting in Sam’s head as he thinks. 

“Edgar Cayce?”

Gabriel laughs in delight. 

“The very one.  Otherwise known as the Sleeping Prophet, also known as the most famous psychic  of his time.” 

“You’ve read his stuff?”

Gabriel waves away the question. “Nah, I just knew the man.”

Sam falters in his step before laughing loudly , happily . “Of course you did ”, he says, his eyes bright and shining in mirth, “were you the one giving him all  those psychic  visions?” 

Gabriel grins. “Technically yes but I wasn’t messing with him,  he actually knew who I was .”

“How’s that? He knew you were an archangel?”

“ Erm , no, but he knew I was Loki.”

“Ah.” is all Sam gets to say as they’ve arrived back to the map room just in time to catch the beginning of Michael’s minor melt down. 

Afterwards, Sam looks over at Gabriel and whispers, “If any one of us was normal we’d realized how abnormal it was to know that Michael and Adam are in a relationship and yet they look identical. To an outsider’s point of view that would look like incest. How fucked up are we that it’s not weird to us?”

The question is so far out of left field that Gabriel is startled into laughing. 

“Care to share with the class?” Dean asks in his ever so succinct manner.

Gabriel shakes his head. “Ask the finer Winchester over here.” 

That makes Dean crack a smile. “He wishes.” 

“Just cause I'm not a  horndog doesn’t mean that I couldn’t get laid if I wanted to, Dean.”

Dean casts a glance at  Cas before answering. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sammy. I’m a one angel kind of man.”

They laugh before Sam explains, lifting his arm to point at Michael and Adam. “I was just telling Gabriel that maybe we should put one of them into a body that looks different. Imagine us being at a store and these two walk in, looking like identical twins, holding hands?” 

Dean scrunches up his nose at the visual. “Yeah, you’re right. But I was  kinda under the impression that they weren’t going to stay like that.”

“ _ They  _ should probably get a say on the subject, don’t you think?” Adam asks, arching a brow at his brothers as Michael looks on, a pensive look on his face. 

“Weren’t you Winchester, the dad, once? Maybe you could use that one. The one with the dark hair and blue eyes?” Charlie interjects, directing her question to Michael. He nods. “I was.” She shrugs in a well-there-you-go manner. 

“Wouldn’t that make everyone uncomfortable? I would look like your son,” Michael states, looking at Henry who’s currently inspecting someone’s cell phone, “and your dad.” He tells the Winchesters. Dean is about to protest but Henry cuts in, “I technically never knew him as an adult, it wouldn’t make any difference to me.” 

Michael looks expectantly at Dean, who opens his mouth and then closes it. Glances at Sam, opens it again and then closes it again, before sighing. “I guess it wouldn’t make a difference to them either. They never met him like that. And aside from me, no one would know.”

“And you’d be...ok with that?” 

Dean thinks it over, releases a small shudder but then shrugs. “I’ll get over it.” He states, confidently. “If I can’t, I’ll have  Cas over here mojo me or something.”

Michael looks at him earnestly. “Thank you, Dean.”

“Yeah, yeah, no chick flick moments, man.”

Michael surprises his brothers by actually laughing before turning to Adam. “I found holding hands with you quite pleasing. We’ll still be able to become one if you so choose but I think I’d like the opportunity to touch you, if that’s alright with you.”

“Anything you want, _ol_ _monons_ _.”_

_ “ _ How many languages do you speak?” Dean asks, having recognized at least a couple different ones slipping into Adam’s vocabulary. 

Adam chuckles. “It was boring in the Cage and we were there a long time. I’m fluent in a lot of the older ones because Michael taught me.”

“That one was Enochian, right?”

“Yep.”

“It’s  kinda surprising that Mikey there taught him, to be honest,” Gabriel says, “It’s not really our thing to give away our language.”

“Adam taught me sign language.” Michael states, like that explains anything. 

“Is that why I don’t know your language,  Cas ?” Dean tries not to sound hurt but he’s pretty sure he doesn’t hide it as well as he thinks he does.

“I didn’t know you’d be interested in learning.”

“Well, yeah. I mean if it has to do with you, I want to know it.”

Sam is a little shit. There’s no way he’s passing up an opportunity this golden to make fun of his emotionally stunted brother. “ Dawww .” He coos, openly mocking Dean who turns red. He smiles impishly at  Cas who has turned to give him a stern look. Gabriel laughs and Michael just looks a little puzzled but Adam is smiling. 

“Hate to interrupt this beautiful family moment but we have one last person to bring back, if  y’all are interested.” Billie cuts in, giving them a slight glare for having gotten so off track. 

Sam looks  around. Most everyone is there. Balthazar is  flirting with Meg, an interesting combination if there ever was one.  Benny is looking on at them like they’re the weird species.  Sam will deny this to his dying breath but when Balthazar had first been brought back, the hug he’d given Gabriel was so close to indecent it had almost made him jealous.  Balthazar had all but run and jumped in his arms, wrapping his legs around him and bounced up and down. It was erotic and gross all at the same time. 

At the same time, he’d caught the look on  Cas's face when Benny had come back. Sam would never stop wondering just what had happened in  Purgatory.  The hug those two (Dean and Benny) had shared…well, maybe  Cas was right to be jealous. 

Jack seemed to be having a hell of a grand  ol time, chattering away excitedly with  everyone, especially Henry who seemed to have taken it upon himself to be Jack’s grandpa. Sam cringed inwardly because as  open-minded as his grandfather was, his dad would  _ never  _ have been, even if angels were not human, hell, maybe especially because they weren’t human. Maybe that’s why Dean hadn’t  asked for him back. 

The other being that was treated as a baby, granted mostly due to his size, was  Samandriel .  He was still the same, had a quiet deference to Gabriel, had gone wide-eyed at Michael’s presence and had paled (at least it seemed that way to Sam) when he saw  Castiel . Of course the guilt was written all over  Cas's face and he’d apologized profusely for killing him. Luckily  Samandriel seemed to accept it. 

Unfortunately the one that seemed to be having the hardest time settling in was Gadreel. Sam had put Gadreel on his list because after having learned of his entire story felt like they both have similar stories. To a bystander they both came across as monsters but really they’d just been dealt really _really_ bad hands. Gadreel, Sam had decided, needed another chance, a _proper_ chance. 

Kaia was standing next to Jack but seemed quiet , well quieter than usual anyway . Sam hoped that once they reunited her with Claire she’d be ok. 

Bobby, Ellen and Missouri were catching up and the sight made Sam smile . These were some of the people who had shaped him. If it hadn’t been for them he’d probably would have turned into a full monster, thanks to Chuck. Instead, their influences had kept him on a mostly right path. He was truly indebted to them.  Hell, the world was too, they just didn’t know it. 

Charlie was chatting away with Kevin and Ash, already old friends. Currently they were talking about  mathematics in computer code that was, not over Sam's head per se, but it wasn't like the subject was a hobby of his. He'd have to study it to understand it and be able to theorize as fluently as they could.  He frowned without realizing it, feeling for the millionth time in his life like he'd never gotten a chance to simply be a kid. 

He felt the weight of Dean's stare without even having to turn .  How his brother could  appear be  s o dense in one second and in the next prove  otherwise in the next was a skill Sam would never have.  He rubbed his eyes tiredly before  ignoring Dean and turning to Billie. 

“Who's left?” 

She smiled before answering. “He would take offense at you not  noticing his absence I'm sure. “

Sam puffed out a breath of air. 

“Of course. How could I forget?  Freaking Crowley.”


	10. Gilbert Parker

_there is no refuge from memory or remorse in this world. the spirits of our foolish deeds haunt us, with or without repentance._

It is a truth, universally acknowledged, that one does not _simply_ make demon deals, especially ones where you’ll be giving up your soul later, for a few inches of growth below the belt. 

The same could not be told true of one Fergus MacLeod who as a wee lad had caught the size of a neighborhood boy, let’s call him Ian, and felt like he was severely lacking. 

So, where most people saved the bastardizing of their souls for things like being cured of cancer, coming up with the money to save their farms, or simply a day without murder (the sole goal of one aspiring mayor), Fergus, later known as Crowley, gave it up for a big dick. 

He was born in 1661 so although he’d done his demon deal at roughly the age of 18, he’d gotten to live until the ripe old age of 63. At that time there had not been a ten year expiration date on deals. No, that amendment was done once Crowley became King of the Crossroads. Knowing everything he’d done to extend his own life, he didn’t want other discovering similar loopholes. It wasn’t personal, merely business. 

Once his path cross that of the Winchesters, Crowley had instinctively known that his days were numbered. There were a few close calls such as when Sam and Dean had gotten ahold of his bones or when Sam had almost killed him in an attempt to close the gates of hell or his brushes with Richard “Dick" Roman. Ultimately he grew tired of life, grew tired of Lucifer, of multiple Apocalypses, of his sodding Mother and sacrificed himself for the greater good. 

So when he’s bippity boppity booped back into existence, he takes a look around, glares at Dean and opens his hand, a glass of his favoured scotch appearing in it. As everyone watches, he mutters something incomprehensible under his breath before he downs the drink. Immediately it’s refilled. 

Dean rolls his eyes at his comrade’s antics and pointedly looks at his watch, a clear indicator that he’s waiting. 

“What?” comes Crowley’s indignant query. A quick look around the room has him sizing everyone up and yes, it’s unsettling to see so many stronger beings than him. He sends a deadly stare Meg’s way but smiles when he sees Bobby. 

He snaps and a glass of the same whiskey he prefers appears next to Bobby on the table. To his credit, Bobby doesn’t startle choosing instead to pick up the glass and take a healthy sip. 

“Some time today Crowley.” Dean growls. 

Crowley fixes him with an unimpressed look. “You’re about as terrifying as a newborn pup.” 

He ignores Dean in favour of looking around the room again, nodding in a fashion that could almost count as friendly at Gabriel who smiles back, all teeth. 

“What are you doing here, Meg?” 

“Take it up with them. I was brought here, same as you.” Meg responds in her typical slow drawl that makes her sound like a sleaze ball. 

Crowley’s gaze lands once again on Dean who runs an irritated hand through his hair. 

“We need your help.” 

“What else is new?” Crowley shoots back tiredly, “and it must be huge considering everyone who’s here. So, tell me, who’s after the Winchester’s now?” 

“God.” 

For a beat Dean’s response doesn’t register as Crowley is trying to see Hell. Something isn’t letting him in and he doesn’t understand why. He takes a peek at the sigils that are carved into the bunker but it’s not that. Really the only thing that could keep him out is- 

“Who is running Hel- wait, did you just say God?” 

His fight or flight instinct kicks in and really, he’s a lover not a fighter so he tries to poof out only to be held firmly in place. 

“ _Stay, vermin.”_ Crowley scowls at Michael before looking at Dean. “Call your pet down.” 

Dean shrugs. “He’s not my pet. Tell Adam.” 

“Ah, yes, Adam. I remember him. The brother you let rot in hell, right?” 

He ignores Dean’s flinch, opting instead to look at Adam, who’s studying him quietly. 

“How’s it feel to know you don’t even place top ten in Dean’s life?” 

So sue him, he’s only just arrived and he’s already trying to ferment dissent and discord. He is the King of Hell after all. It’s his duty. 

Except that Adam doesn’t do much. Just sits there and says, “Family. Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em.” 

Crowley stares. “You’ve got a hell of a poker face, kid.” 

“Only I get to call him kid.” It’s Michael again and- oh, that’s very interesting. Crowley looks between the two again, barely able to hid his smirk, choosing to take another drink of his scotch in a effort to hid it completely. He files that tidbit of info away for later. 

He turns back to Dean. 

“So, Chuck, huh? What’d you do now, Dean? Create your own nephil?” 

He laughs openly at the indignant look on Dean’s face. 

“Hey! It wasn’t me. The guy’s a dick!” 

“Of course He is. He’s God. Did you really expect anything different?” 

“Watch it. That’s my brother you’re talking about.” Crowley rolls his eyes at Amara. Well, seems Adam was right about one thing. Speaking of- 

“Where’s my mother?” 


	11. President Dwight Eisenhower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW- depression and suicide

_there's no tragedy in life like the death of a child. things never get back_ _to the way they were._

His very (in his eyes, anyway) reasonable query is met with silence. 

“Well now, don’t all speak at once.” 

“What happened was- well, I had to- there was a thing- she-" Crowley stops Sam. 

“Just stop, Moose. I recognize that Winchester speak for she’s dead. Honestly, is there anyone you lot care about that doesn’t end up six feet underground? Or is it because you care? Is it one of those things were you destroy everything you touch?” Crowley is angry and he can feel his eyes turning red. He picks Sam up fully intending to slam him against the wall but finds himself being held down again. 

“Let. Me. Go!” He roars at Michael. 

Out of the corner of his eye he feels Michael shrug in an uncaring manner. 

“He’s not _my_ human.” 

It could be the way he says it that stops Crowley short. 

His next mistake is addressing Adam. 

“Seriously? You too? Both you and your brothers are nothing but idiot savants who seem to get cheap thrills from sticking your fingers into electrical sockets.” 

In the next instant, there’s a snap and bits and pieces of Crowley go flying everywhere. 

Michael shows off his power by snapping again and the room is clean and Crowley is back. 

He sighs. 

“Fine. I got it. No bad mouthing the Winchesters.” 

It tugs at Dean because Crowley isn’t his subordinate, he’s his friend. 

“There’s always me.” He pipes up. 

It does the trick. The light comes back to Crowley’s eyes and he smirks. “And you’re the fairest of them all, aren’t you darlin’?” 

So sue him, Dean blushes. 

He clears his throat, ready to explain about Rowena (and, fuck, if that’s not going to make the former King of Hell shit bricks) when Crowley waves him off and tells him he’s going to lie down for a bit. 

“Being dead takes a lot out of a King.” 

Dean watches him leave and then slowly turns to Michael before striding over to him. He stops less than a foot away from his face. 

Michael just looks at him impassively. 

“What?” 

“Don’t. Ever. Kill. My. Friends. Again.” Every word is accompanied by a poke to Michael’s chest. And damn if Dean’s finger doesn’t hurt. 

“I brought him back.” Michael says, almost pouting. 

“Leave him alone, Dean.” It’s Adam and he looks upset. Too bad Dean doesn’t care. 

It must show on his face because Adam scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. 

“Yes. I'm fully aware that you don’t care. Michael and I are fully aware that you don’t care about anyone who isn’t Sam or Castiel. Regardless, right now you need our help and you will not treat Mik (he pronounces it like Mihk) like he’s just anybody. You will treat him with respect or we walk. And your precious Castiel won’t ever get to become an archangel.” 

Dean can feel the anger rolling off him in waves. Where does this asshole get off- 

“I get off the fact that you left us both there to rot. You took it at face value that there wasn’t anything else that could be done for us even though any other time that you haven’t liked the ending of something you do whatever it takes to change it. Like with Sam. You didn’t leave him there even though everyone probably initially told you that there was nothing that could be done, right? The difference, _brother,_ is that you actually value Sam’s life. Why was his life worth more than mine? He signed up for this shit. You signed up for this shit. I didn’t. The worst mistake I ever made was being born to a sodding piece of shit narcissistic Winchester. And seeing you and Sam now, evidently the apple truly does not fall far from the tree.” 

Dean felt like he’d been slapped. Even as he heard his brother start blubbering some response. Even as he felt someone’s power try to get Adam, just as he felt it be blocked. He heard Michael tell someone, probably Gabriel again, that it was Adam’s right to speak up for himself. Heard Gabriel reply angrily that all the shit Sam and himself had gone through had been by _their_ Father’s hand. Heard Michael’s bitter reply that he didn’t have a Father and that as soon as all their bullshit was over and done with he was ripping out his “ _fucking grace and destroying it since it’s fucking worthless"_ and Dean hadn’t ever heard an angel talk like that. Not even Balthazar. He felt, rather than heard, the silence that enveloped the room at that pronouncement and, finally, he heard himself. 

“Stop.” 

“No, you stop. You and Sam. Stop treating everyone that you supposedly care about like they’re indispensable. We’re not just moving pieces on a game of chess. We are all just people, not pawns. The people that you supposedly save. _Saving People,_ blah, blah _Family Business_ and all that jazz, remember?” Adam’s voice has taken on a mocking quality. 

“And you. You stand there and defend Sam when what has he ever done for you? Leave you to die over and over? Both Winchesters too stubborn to say yes to their angels even when they’re dying that Castiel has had to die multiple times instead of Dean ever offering to be his vessel, even when by Sam's own admission they've willingly allowed others in? That’s how much Dean considers him family. What can you expect? What do they consider you? Is there anything beyond annoying trickster with a sweet tooth?” 

Adam is ruthless in his onslaught to Gabriel. And even Cas's eyes are downcast and it strikes Dean that maybe Cas has wondered this exact thing himself. 

Dean hates it. He pissed and he wants nothing more than to punch his little brother in the face. But he can’t because between Michael, Gabriel, and Cas someone is bound to die. 

So he has to suck it up. 

“Ok. We get it.” 

Adam stops his tirade and looks him straight in the eye. “No, you don’t. Because we’re all here so that you two, just you two, don’t become monsters. So that when you do go out it’s in a blaze of glory, as heroes, when the reality is that you became monsters long long ago.” 

His voice is quiet. Quiet enough that Dean hears Sam’s breath hitch and he wants to be angry, but something stops him because not only is Adam also his brother but what he’s saying is something that rings as true somewhere deep inside Dean. 

Dean’s not a talker, he’s a doer but this- this needs to be addressed. He can feel a shift begin somewhere inside him as his brother’s words hit home. 

He runs a hand over his face. 

“When I was five, Sammy was one. John left us in a hotel for 3 days while he went on a bender. At least that’s what I’ve always assumed because the stench of sweat combined with whiskey is one I’ve never forgotten. That entire time Sammy had two diapers and CPS was almost called on me when I had to steal some. I didn’t realize they came in different sizes and I made a mistake of going back to the same store. I only got away because evading police was something I’d already had beat into me. 

When I was ten, John was gone for two whole weeks. He missed Christmas and New Years. Sammy and I spent it hiding from the mold-ridden motel we were staying in and sneaking back into the room at night so we wouldn’t freeze outside. The blankets weren’t thick enough so we slept on the couch, huddled up together to keep warm. I managed to find food for Sammy but I didn’t eat the last four days before John came back. 

I cried myself to sleep often. When it was Sammy’s birthday and I failed at getting him a cake. When he returned to wherever we were staying at, crying because kids at his school had been jerks to him. When John continuously left us to fend for ourselves for periods of time that seem to get longer and longer. Once when I was 14 he didn’t come back for 3 months. We only made it because I got a job at McDonald’s by lying my ass off and asking Bobby for help. To this day I think that’s where Sam’s love for salads came,” Dean smiles slightly at the memories before continuing, “and then came the day that my little brother not only left John, although to be fair, he had it coming, but he also left me. Without a single shred of remorse he basically told me he was getting a life and that I didn’t fit. Like I wasn’t the reason he was even still around. 

Fast- forward to you and come to find out that not only are you studying to be a doctor but you have no knowledge of the supernatural because John never told you but he taught you to ride a bike and took you to baseball games? 

Well,” Dean says quietly, “I can honestly tell you that although I’ve had some good moments in my life they’ve been sporadic at best and non-existent at most. I tried to commit suicide once and it didn’t take. I never understood why until now. Because of Chuck. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I don’t know, little brother, I don’t know why we forgot you, maybe Chuck took away our urgency when it came to you or maybe I just couldn’t deal with one more fucking thing and you’re right, maybe I left you there to rot. Whether it was by design or some sort of unconscious decision I made to make you pay for the good life you got to have, I have no idea. 

But I am sorry. And I hope, with all my heart, that you don’t leave. I’ve had enough of my siblings choosing to leave me to last me a whole ‘nother lifetime.” 

With that Dean takes Castiel’s hand and walks away. 

Sam has tears rolling down his face and Adam looks pensive, digesting all he’s learned. 

Billie announces that everyone should take a break and that they’ll reconvene in the morning before taking off with Amara to parts unknown.

They aren’t leaving the bunker. No one can, lest Chuck get to them but the bunker is a magical cavernous space that just when you think you’ve explored it all another set of doors or a whole new hallway appears. It’s to one of those hidden doors that Gabriel walks away to, trying his hardest not to collapse within himself. Little Adam may not have done it intentionally but regardless he’d hit on the nail of several things Gabriel had repeatedly pondered about in the years between making the Winchesters acquaintance and not being dead. And he’s not going to lie, it hurts. It hurts far more than he can downplay and that’s why, as much as Sam’s heartbroken face tugs at his heartstrings he chooses to walk away. 


	12. Publilius Syrus

_fate is not satisfied with inflicting one calamity_

Cas is drilling holes into his head. Dean, having almost reached for a beer, stops himself at the last second and opts for a cup of coffee instead. His brain is a cacophony of white noise, statements his brother accused him off are bouncing off from one end of his head to the other, and there's an overall buzzing sound that he’d try to shake out but he’s pretty sure he’d dislodge something in there if he did. And through it all the most prominent thing is Cas, staring. 

Dean sighs and puts his cup down, watches the way the spoon keeps twirling itself around and around, _just like on_ _Practical Magic,_ (the only set of witches he's ever found tolerable) he thinks, before turning to face Cas, who, just as he suspected, is staring at him. 

Dean is accustomed to being stared at by Cas. Sometimes the staring is accompanied by a tilt of his head, like Dean is something unfathomable to him, like he’s trying to figure out anything ranging from what he’s talking about to _who he is at his core_ , other times, it’s not a head tilt but rather a furrowed brow, like he wants to disagree with Dean but something stops him short of voicing it. Sometimes it’s the two combined, like when Dean couldn’t stop laughing after escaping the bouncers at the only “den of iniquity” he ever took Cas to or when Dean couldn’t stop giggling at the giant men covered in only a loin clothes (he really mustn’t forget about Donatello's soul) or even when he asked Dean how important lipstick was to him and…because all roads lead to Rome, it’s the same look he gave Dean when he asked him why he felt he didn’t deserved to be saved. 

But the look he’s giving him right now isn’t any of those. It’s a blank, impassive one. And one that barely masks the defeat in Cas’s eyes. The sorrow that lies there tells Dean that now that Adam’s mentioned a certain question it is prevalent on Cas's mind. 

Dean sighs. He turns to get his mug, just to have something to do with his hands, before turning back to Cas. 

There are many things at the tip of his tongue but what comes out is “I'm sorry”. 

Realisation floods through him as he discovers that he actually really is. And for, not the first time, he wonders if Cas is aware of the special place he holds in his heart. 

Judging by the slight look of skepticism in Cas's eyes he’s going to go with no. 

Dean isn’t good with words, how can he explain everything that Cas means to him? 

_Through action._

“Take off the coat, Cas." 

He gives Dean one of his questioning looks but removes it. It’s rare for Dean to see him without it and the sight of him just standing there with a dress shirt on makes him swallow hard. 

He’s come this far though and he’s not going to back down now. 

Without breaking eye contact he reaches behind him to place the cup back on the counter before stepping into Cas ‘s personal space. Slowly, so that Cas can see what he’s doing he brings his arms up and wraps them around him. Cas is stiff in his arms and for a moment Dean feels uncertainty but he decides, again, to see it through and slowly Cas starts to relax. 

It’s only then that Dean slowly starts to run his hands up, the undulating muscles of Cas’s back tense again but it’s only slightly. Dean continues until one of his hands is at the base of his neck and he pushes down, just a little bit. Cas doesn’t resist and a second later his head is resting on Dean’s shoulder. Another second and Cas puts his own arms around Dean. It’s only when he sees that Dean isn’t pushing him away that he exhales deeply and finally Dean feels him completely relax. 

Dean feels his eyes tighten and unbidden the words come. 

“For you, Cas, I would burn this world to the ground. All the forces in the world want us to kill one another but for you I’d kill them before I hurt you. We’ve made so many mistakes, we’ve hurt each other, but I will never walk away from you. We’ve been through so much together, you’re ingrained deeply in me. You’re a part of me and as vital to me as air. I will always leave the light on for you, Cas.” His voice breaks slightly but he forces himself continue because he’s not done. 

“I should have said this a long time ago, Cas but yes. Yes, ok? It’s a blank yes. You are welcome to use my body as a vessel absolutely any time you need it, no matter the circumstance, time or day.” 

His breath is coming fast now, he feels it ragged but nothing compares to the way that Cas melts into his arms. His body is heavier than a human’s but Dean holds steady. 

“I'm never going to let you fall, Cas. Ever. And I'm never going to lose you again. As much as I _know_ that you love me, I – I love you too.” Those words have never really come easy for Dean. They make him feel vulnerable, not just because of the power they give the person on the receiving end but because, in general, the universe likes to torture him and he doesn’t like giving it ammunition but Cas deserves to hear them. So he says them again, and even though he’s whispering, the intent behind them comes out even stronger. 

“I love you too, Dean.” Comes Cas's deep, rumbly voice. This wrapped up in each other has Dean feeling the vibration of said voice and it makes him smile. His hand shifts further up into Cas's soft hair and he ruffles it. 

“I am not a dog, Dean.” 

That makes him laugh out loud and hug Cas just a little tighter before finally letting releasing him. 

He pulls back, still holding Cas’s forearms and looks into his eyes. “You understand you have my complicit permission to take me as a vessel if you need to, right?” 

Cas nods. “Yes, Dean.” 

“So, no more dying, right?” 

The corner of Cas's lips tip up. 

“Yes, Dean". 

The acknowledgment makes Dean sigh an air of relief and he smiles, finally letting go. 

“Good. I'm going to drink my coffee now. Wanna join me?” 

“Yes, Dean.” 

Dean smiles. He’s always liked the way Cas says his name. 

After their shared coffee time, where Dean makes an effort talk to Cas about anything besides what’s happening in the shit-storm they call life, Dean is making his way out of the kitchen, ruminating about how _date_ like that felt when Cas’s voice stops him. 

“Dean?” 

Dean turns back. 

“Yes, Cas?” 

“Can I put my coat back on now?” 


	13. Terry Pratchett

_light thinks it travels faster than anything else but it's wrong. no matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it._

Dean’s walking by the room where he’d left everyone and he can hear Adam talking to Sam as well as the low hum of chatter from everyone else. He’d like nothing more than to grab some of his good whiskey and sit down to watch a movie, with Cas, of course, but he can’t because this is his life. Chuck hates him, the Fates hate him, and basically everything in between. So he doesn’t look in on Sam. Sam has left him to fend for himself countless times, he’ll be alright if Dean doesn’t come to his immediate assistance just because he’s shedding a few tears. 

As he walks the hall he thinks of the many various characters that have stayed here with them. From staples like Cas and Jack, there’s been Crowley, Rowena, Gabriel, Lucifer, Chuck, the prophets. Seriously, what is his life? He’s never understood why he and Sam were the chosen ones. It made no fucking sense. Maybe they’d been like Metatron- simply the closest ones to the door. He pushes the thoughts away from his mind as he knocks on the door. 

Silence. 

He knocks again. 

Silence. 

He decides to just open the door. 

“I’m coming in.” 

Gabriel is sitting against the wall with one leg propped up. In front of him, slowly rotating, is the solar system. He seems lost in thought, his face stained with the shed tears he didn’t bother to wipe away. 

Dean goes to sit next to him, his entire left side pressed up against Gabriel’s and he’s never been this close to him. It feels a little weird, if only because Gabriel’s body seems to slightly vibrate. It’s power, he realizes. Gabriel literally vibrates with power. 

“It’s because my body is small.” He hears Gabriel mutter lowly. 

Mmm. But then how- nope. Too far above his pay grade he decides. He’ll leave that shit to Sam. He points to the planets. 

“You’re in here playing with the planets?” 

“Kinda. I made some of these.” 

“Let me guess. Pluto? Annnd, Saturn?” He guesses, looking at the bright gold rings around Saturn. 

“How’d you guess?” Gabriel sounds so surprised that Dean huffs out a laugh. 

“Pluto is useless. The only thing it has going for itself is its size. It’s tiny. But still a planet. Like you- seemingly tiny but overall still an archangel, still a planet _("still important," he thinks but doesn't voice)._ Saturn because you’re extra as fuck. And I’m guessing that Mercury was Lucifer’s, the retrograde, emotionally unstable son of a bitch.” There isn’t any bite in his words though and he knows Gabriel can hear it. He’s just ribbing him. Gabriel’s small uptick- a semblance of a smile show Dean he understands. 

“Why are you playing with them, then?’ 

“’m not playing with them. Just watching. I loved being in space, since I can’t, I brought it here.” 

“Hmm. Why don’t you turn your room into space?” 

“How do you mean?” 

Dean doesn’t really know how to explain it so he takes a deep breath and segues into what he came here for- 

“Look in my head. It’s there, I just don’t know how to explain it.” 

Dead silence. 

Okkk, that didn’t work. 

“Listen Gabriel-” 

“You don’t have to say anything, Dean. It’s not your fault. It’s not like we’re family or even friends. I’m just another angel who happened to know you.” Gabriel shrugs. 

Dean hides a smile and gently knocks his shoulder against Gabriel’s. 

“I’m onto you, you know.” 

Gabriel turns to him then, a quizzical look on his face 

“You’re just like me. I know myself. Look in my head Gabriel.” 

“You wanna mind meld instead?” Gabriel asks instead, almost as a dare. He doesn’t expect Dean to say anything other than no. 

“Like on Star Trek?” Dean can’t help but ask. Gabriel laughs but nods. 

Well, he’s come this far. He nods and Gabriel puts his hand out, palm up. Dean puts his hand on top, his paw significantly bigger than Gabriel’s. It covers it completely. He closes his eyes. 

When he reopens them, he feels... heavy? Looking around, he sees they’re in space and his breath hitches, but what if Chuck- 

“We’re not really in space.” He whirls around expecting to see Gabriel but there’s nothing there. 

“Gabe?” 

“For lack of a better term, you’re in my head and I’m in yours. If you get close to the screens you’ll see both my memories and yours. I made them screens so that you can understand otherwise your brain would probably implode.” 

Dean steps closer to them and whoa. It’s fucking incredible. 

“You’re capable of doing all this?” 

“We’re capable of a lot. It just seems like my capabilities are never anything that would actually help you guys out. Who cares about our time travelling capabilities when Death is literally knocking at your door and Death is stronger than I am?” 

Dean tucks that bit away and tells Gabriel that everything is bloody awesome as he continues to walk around until eventually he starts hearing his name, distantly. 

“That’s Cas.” 

“Yeah, I know. It’s time to go back. They need us.” 

“Wait Gabriel.” 

This time Gabriel listens. 

“The thing is that we got so accustomed to saying no that we forgot we trusted you two with our lives. When we allowed the others...we didn’t want to, it was because we thought we didn’t have a choice.” He knows he’s rambling but he’s hoping that in here, in the middle of his mind, Gabriel can make sense of what he’s saying. 

“But Free Will still means that I get to choose who I want to say yes to. And I’m never going to allow Michael. Ever. I can’t. Not even for Adam. But you and Cas...I don’t know, I don’t know how to explain it but you feel like my family. I love everyone that’s here but Cas, Sam, you...we’re it. So, like I told Cas, this is late as fuck but you guys are definitely able to use me as a vessel if it comes between that or death. Even if it’s at the same time. Considering I was meant for Michael, I can probably hold an archangel and a seraph at the same time.” 

There’s silence for another beat and then Gabriel pipes up. 

“There's a sex joke there just waiting to be made but I'm going to let it go. This time. Either way, it sounds like you’ve given this a lot of thought.” 

“Yep,” Dean says, rocking back on his heels, “all the way from the kitchen to your room.” 

“Heh.” Gabriel laughs, “next time we do this you want to be characters?” 

Why they’re going to be standing around looking at each other's screens as characters is beyond him but it’s Gabriel and that seems to cover a lot of ground so Dean just shrugs. 

“Sure. Can I be Batman?” 


	14. George Chakiris

_no matter how dark the moment, love and hope are always possible_

“I did a Vulcan Mind Meld with Gabriel.” Dean tells Sam by way of greeting. He and Gabriel “woke up” or whatever the fuck to half the people in the bunker standing over the two of them. Cas and Sam’s brows identically furrowed. And when did his angel learn to be so expressive anyway? Was a time that he couldn’t tell what the hell was going on inside that angel mind of his. 

“Vulcan mind meld. I’m not even going to ask.” He hears Benny mutter to Gadreel before the two of them walk back out. Charlie’s in the corner, standing next to Kevin, both of them looking adequately disturbed.

“Why?” He asks them, almost entirely sure he’s not making any sense. 

“Why...what?” Charlie asks, arching her brow. He scowls at her, glancing around the room. He’s probably the dumbest person there. Each person or being there has a very specific role but for the life of him he can’t figure out what he’s meant to mean, besides brawn. Backup muscle. It makes no (“ _ any”  _ he can hear Sam say) sense. It tugs at something inside because he must be missing something. Has to be. But what?

“ Nevermind that.” He grumbles as he hoists himself up, wincing when his knees crack. He sees the question in Cas’s eyes but he shakes his head no. 

“Maybe it would be best that we got the archangel process out of the way before we did anything else.”  BIllie says, looking at Michael. He just nods. 

“We’ll do it here.” He says, “No sense in leaving and making them  susceptible to  Father's clutches without necessity. It appears that there’s a. .. basement ,” he says carefully, like he’s trying the word out for the first time, which he probably is. Dean hides a smile. It’s funny to watch angels  acclimatise to humanity. “We can ward it so that no one is the wiser and  Castiel will have to stay there for about a month before he come out and not hurt anyone.”

“A month?” Cas  squawks . “We don’t have that kind of time.” Michael shrugs, “A month is putting it lightly. Gabriel was out for significantly longer.”

Dean grins at Gabriel who looks  embarrassed . “Always knew you were a weak sauce.”

“It  _ hurt.”  _ He says all  indignant like, “I try to avoid pain when at all possible.”

“Bummer,” Sam smirks, surprising them all, “I like a little pain now and again.”

Dean cracks up while several people look at him with decidedly interested looks on their faces. When had Gadreel come back in? Dean glances at Gabriel and sees that Gabriel has noticed as well, if the pinched look on his face is any indication. But he doesn’t say anything, just looks down and fidgets with his shoe. Well, that won’t do. 

Dean slings an arm around Gabriel and as nonchalantly as you please  says , “Your reputation for being insatiable  precedes you, Gabe. Hopefully you’ll know just what to do to keep the fire from  burning too  brightly in my  brother's masochistic loins.” With one sentence, he’s let the others know that the only person he finds acceptable for Sammy is Gabriel and although disappointed, Dean knows they know better than to try to infringe. 

The rest of the day is spent being in each other’s company. They have a lot to make up for and Dean gets to enjoy making a fantastic meal with Ellen and Meg of all people. Gabriel helps out a little but mostly he sticks to making deserts. Gadreel stays pretty busy playing bartender, something he says he learned from his vessel.  Samandriel splits his time between helping Gabriel and hanging out with what Dean’s cleverly dubbed the Advanced Placement Group (ADG if anyone asks) which consists of Ash, Charlie, Kevin. Dean smiles to himself when Charlie unceremoniously tugs Kaia over with them. If anyone can get  _ something  _ out of Kaia, it’s Charlie. 

Sammy is surprisingly not with them. Dean briefly wonders if Sam’s aware he’s removed himself from the kids table and makes a mental note to rib him about it later. No, Sam is talking lore, mythology, and everything in between with Bobby and their grandfather, Henry. With the former, he’s  explaining their book system, with the latter, teaching him about the system Charlie had set up for them. Dean isn’t aware but he’s wearing the proud smile he normally wears when he sees that even Billie and Amara look impressed with their system and most importantly, Sam’s knowledge. Crowley isn’t saying much but seems to be content with engaging in some playful banter with Bobby who gives as good as he gets. 

Turning his  head, he hears Balthazar sighing loudly and rolling his eyes. Dean imagines that Michael is probably bothering him about the heaven’s stolen weapons. “Honestly, Michael...” He hears  Balth defending himself all the way back to the kitchen where Cas is waiting for him. 

He stops short of entering the kitchen to stare at Cas. He wonders if he’ll look different tomorrow. Dean knows he’ll be different but he wonders if he’ll  _ be  _ different. Dean hopes not. He’s  tired of everyone who acts like he can’t do anything, like being _only_ human is a bad  thing, a lesser thing . Dean doesn’t know what he’d do if he ever saw that look of dismissal on Cas’s face.  Probably cry or something decidedly unmanly. He tenses without realizing, suddenly afraid of what feels  to be a very real possibility. 

He jumps slightly when he feels arm snake around his waist. It’s Gabriel and he stares at the top of his  friend's shaggy dirty blonde hair before meeting his very gold eyes. He wonders if Gabriel chose this vessel because its eyes look like the outer rings of the Saturn he created. 

“He would never.” Gabriel tells him honestly, looking up at him with sincerity written all over his face. 

Still, Dean has to ask. 

“You’re sure?”

Gabriel nods and Dean’s chest loosens.

Later, they’ll all sit around the kitchen and Dean will blush when Cas jokingly (?) tells Gabriel to get his own Righteous Man. Gabriel will laugh and say that he one-upped him, he got a Moose. Sam will roll his eyes and Charlie will make obnoxious cooing noises. Billie will watch Amara with amusement as Amara eats spaghetti for the first time in her  existence .  Castiel ,  Samandriel and Gadreel will commiserate with her about the difficulties of being human (“constant urination”, Cas will  complain about for the umpteenth time and Dean will roll his eyes in mock exasperation but Amara will see  it for what it is- fondness and deep appreciation. and she’ll understand how Dean was never completely under her spell), while Meg rolls her eyes with derision at the whole lot of them. Crowley will have had so much whiskey by then that he’ll have  poofed his old phone back into existence and after everyone finishes admiring the old relic of a Motorola, he will be passing around the picture of him and Bobby “having us a snog” while Bobby groans in mortification. Gadreel and Balthazar will be talking to each other about the “old days” and  Samandriel will be looking at all of his brother’s in one place with something akin to awe written on his face. No one will mention when Michael pops a wing into their reality and covers  Samandriel with it but they will see Adam make doe eyes at Michael for being a good big brother. Dean will snicker at him and Ash will threaten to hunt down videos of Dean doing equally  mortifying things, and Ellen will chastise anyone who steps too out of place, angels, humans and others, alike. 

The next day they’ll get up and it’ll be a Very Important Day. Cas will gain the title he’s always deserved and another set of wings. It’ll be painful but his brothers will be there to ease the pain as much as possible but most, importantly, for Cas anyway, Dean will be there glaring at anyone who dares give Cas any shit about being a baby (Balthazar) and underneath all the pain, Cas will smile and fall even more. 

Lastly, something will have changed. Something no one sees coming.  _ It  _ has been watching. _It_ has been observing. And  _ It  _ has decided that if there were ever a time for  _ It  _ to interfere it is now. 


	15. Mahatma Ghandi

_the human voice can never reach the distance that is covered by the still, small voice of conscious_

_I stand with the coffee mug in my hands, trying not to be bitter about how so many things have changed, how technology has advanced in some of the most marvelous ways_ _I've_ _had the pleasure to witness, and yet, still, no one has figured out how to put a bloody window in an underground bunker so that I can stand here and stare out the window with my thoughts in bloody peace. Somehow drinking coffee under_ _fluorescent_ _lights isn’t as religious an experience as it could be and I swear to Somebody that it tastes different when the sun isn’t glaring in your face. I’m glaring at my cup, in consternation, now wondering if it’s worth the effort of drinking it when I hear a slight chuckle behind me. I do not jump._

_“I can turn the entire ceiling into a skylight for you if you want. Just say the word.”_

_When I turn_ _around,_ _I see that it’s exactly who I’d thought it’d be and he’s standing there with his fingers poised to snap when we both know that’s an_ _unnecessary_ _move. There’s only one being that has the tendency or lack of manners, as it were, to just go ‘round laughing at people’s own private thoughts. I sigh, deeply, even as he rocks on his heels and reminds me (read: gloats) that he doesn’t have rules to abide by because “archangel”._ _Personally,_ _I think he could do with a good swatting to his rear._

_I stare at him in exasperation as he laughs and calls me kinky._

_Angels are nothing as I thought they’d be. They’re insolent and needy. They act like_ _ten-year_ _old's_ _(that are going on ten billion years old) and yet still heel when someone who merely looks older than whatever vessel they’re in takes on the role of a guardian. I tap my finger rapidly and impatiently against my cup, wishing I had thought to bring my notebook so that I could write down all my thoughts. Is it possible that angels are capable of suffering from the same afflictions as humans,_ _psychologically_ _speaking? Can they really, as Dean so eloquently puts it, have daddy issues?” Can an_ _absentee_ _Father, who in this case just so happens to be God, still equal_ _children_ _acting out in respect to angels, seemingly misbehaving because that's the only way to get their Dad's attention? Or is it just these angels? Have my grandsons really made that much of a difference? Have_ _angels'_ _expectancies of what makes_ _a life_ _worth living changed because my grandson’s_ _expectations about their own lives_ _have rubbed off? What are the other angels like? The ones who don’t like them? Are they normal angels? Then again, who’s to say what a normal angel is?_ _Having made the acquaintance of these angels, I daresay other angels, stoic angels, would appear to be the_ _anomaly._

 _Blast it, I really need a pen._

_I move to go retrieve one and do a slight jolt when I realize the archangel is still standing there, a slight smirk on his face. He’s been following my thoughts, I can tell. The look on his face is brazen and unapologetic. It’s all so very Dean. I wonder if the archangel remembers he doesn’t even_ _need_ _to show emotion. That’s yet another human trait. I smirk back at him and set to step around him neatly when he speaks._

_“I'm_ _not bothered in the least by any labels you decide to affix on me, however I ask that you keep your_ _lobotomy_ _tendencies to, say, Michael.”_

_It stops me short as I realize he’s helped me answer at least one of my queries. He already knew he didn’t like pain when he was created. Interesting. I stop to stare at him (a byproduct of my mind processing) when I’m interrupted by his face. Rather, his eyes. What's behind his eyes. They’re very interesting, hypnotic even. They’re a dulcet set of something sweet, gold and honeyed. Until I keep staring. And then I am able to see the underneath, the archangel. It’s sharp and bitter. It’s old, ancient, really and if not handled with care it will bite. I smile. It’s possible that last bit pertains solely to this archangel._

_He’s special. Incredibly so, actually. He’s an archangel, willing to fight until it’s all over, regardless of whether heaven will ever take him back. Unlike other angels, he wants to live, not just survive. He’s special because he knows he’s an archangel but his eyes belie a certain degree of humility. He’s not in it for the power, the accolades, the recognition. He’s in it because he may very well be the only one who understands that with great power comes great responsibility. And he sees a lot more than he lets on. In a flash, I realize that the reason Dean seems to think that the archangel Gabriel is the perfect match for Samuel is because Gabriel, like Dean, won’t let Sam fall. Gabriel has enough faith for the two of them even if that faith no longer belongs to his Father. He has enough fight for both of them. In his eyes, I can see how much he doesn’t like fighting. I’ve heard the words come out of his mouth enough but now I can see it. But what I can see even more is that for Sam he’ll fight. He’ll fight until every bit of grace has been wrenched out of him and he literally is at Death’s Door and then he’ll fight some more._

_I lift my hand slowly so as not to scare him off and with the same care I’d take in handling a beast I could never hope to control. I place my hand very gently on his shoulder. His eyes follow the action before snapping back to meet mine. What have you seen? What have you decided? They seem to ask._

_I smile at him then, a real smile because he’s worthy of all the smiles humanity can bestow. He’s the angel we should all have on our shoulder. The perfect balance of sweet and sour. The perfect combination of good and evil; angel and demon. I can’t think of anyone more perfect for my grandson._

_“Welcome to the family, son.”_

_I walk away then because it’s time to go talk to Dean. There’s something I’ve been wanting to know._

_Where’s John?_


	16. Emily Dickinson

_one need not be a chamber to be haunted, one need not be a house. the brain has corridors surpassing material place._

Gabriel is still looking at the spot left behind by old man Henry when a soft “hey" makes him turn. It’s Sammy. 

“Hey Samshine.” 

He smiles at me ruefully before shaking his head. 

“I'm never going to get you to stick to Sam, am I?” 

Gabriel smiles back, shaking his head all the while. 

Sam nods in acquiescence before gesturing after his grandfather. 

“You two have a nice chat?” 

“Meh. You know humans, always have to have the last word.” 

He laughs then and the sound warms him to his core. 

“What are you thinking about then?” He asks. 

“Ah, you know, same ol, same ol.” 

“Archangel things?” He queries, “because I feel like with you that could range from all the different types of candies that exist in this world to- to, I don’t know, alphabetizing all the languages you know. Or hell, maybe you’re thinking about taking off. Imagining strippers, maybe? Thinking of joining them?” 

Gabriel laughs, knowing exactly what incident Sammy is thinking about. 

“Nah, Gabriel does not make for a good stripper name.” 

The smile on Sam’s face doesn’t waver. He only lets out another huff of laughter. 

“You know what I mean.” He rebukes gently. 

“Yeah, I know. No, I'm not thinking about leaving. How can I if I haven’t gotten into your pants yet?” 

“Is that your end goal? Will you be leaving then once you do?” his voice is quiet now and Gabriel responds in kind. 

“I never said I wanted it just the once, Sammy.” 

“Mmm.” Sam hums, non committedly, giving nothing away. 

Gabriel says nothing. He won’t get into Sam’s mind. No matter what Henry thinks there is some lines Gabriel won’t cross. If he ever gets the opportunity to enter Sam’s mind it’ll be with explicit consent. 

“You’re here to stay then?” 

Gabriel shrugs. “Unless you decide you don’t want me here.” 

Sam eyes him, his eyes brown, dark, and intense. 

“I’ve always wanted you here.” 

“You have a funny way of showing it.” The words are instant and come out slightly more bitter and to Gabriel’s mortification, sounding _hurt._ He schools his face to show nothing. It really shouldn’t be as hard as it is. 

Sam, predictably, winces. He runs a hand through his hand. 

“One of the reasons I was trying to find you. Listen- please, just listen,” He pleads when Gabriel makes a motion to stop him. 

Gabriel gives him a go-ahead look and Sam hurriedly goes on, afraid Gabriel will change his mind. 

“Dean was right when he said that we were so focused on saying no initially that we never moved past it. And it’s been way too fucking long for us to not have evolved. I'm sorry Gabriel. I'm sorry that we’ve been so fucking crappy to you. You didn’t deserve that. Pranks, yes, this, no.” 

Gabriel opens his mouth but snaps it shut when Sam steps a little closer to him. 

“I, um, if it’s ok with you, I mean, well,” 

Gabriel arches a brow. The fuck? 

Sam sighs and looks up at the ceiling. “Look, my soul is pretty fucked up. Anyone who has ever been in there has told me so. But if you ever need me as a vessel, feel free to use me as you see fit. I can’t promise it’ll do you any good but whatever help or comfort I can provide, you’re welcome to it.” 

His soul. Sam is embarrassed over his soul.

"Your soul shines bright like a diamond."

Sam scoffs. "Right. This thing has been dragged just about everywhere and last I heard was barely holding on for dear life. But I mean it. It's not much but it's yours if you want it." 

It gives him an idea but he’s a little hesitant because he knows how to do it in _theory_ but he’s never actually done it. But…Michael’s there and his brother is an asshole but Gabriel’s pretty sure he'll help and won’t let him fuck this up. 

He clears his throat. 

“There might be something we can do about that.” 

Sam looks down at him so quick his spine nerve spasms and his hand goes up to rub it out. 

“Do about what?” Gabriel realizes Sam is holding his breath, like he doesn’t dare hope. He pats him on the shoulder. 

“Come on, Sammy. Let’s chat.” 

And that’s how Samandriel and Michael find them an hour later. Gabriel’s vessel is lying on the couch in Dean’s bat cave and Sam’s eyes are bright and he’s complaining about his limbs being too long. He doesn’t have Sam hidden away in his mind and by the jerky moves that have Michael trying to stifle his imminent laughter, Sam has some control over his body. 

_Adam_ , Michael calls. He’ll get a kick out of this. Sure enough, two minutes later Adam crosses the threshold and watches silently before sharing a side eye with Michael. They both start laughing loudly. Michael has his head back, cracking up so hard and freely that it stops Gabriel short. He’s _never_ seen Michael like that. Next to him, inhabiting the same body, Sam is also staring. Michael and Adam both look so free. The last time Sam laughed like that was right after they'd solved the Yellow Fever case. Dean had been funny in his indignation and insistence that he wasn't afraid of anything.

Eventually they get it together and both of them show Sam and Gabriel how to merge their minds (but still keep them separate) so that they both fit. Sam thinks they don’t (fit) but then gets reminded that he held Lucifer and he was much bigger than Gabriel. That helps him relax and he realizes that he actually feels very very good. 

He can’t decide if it’s because Gabriel is in there, warming him up or if it’s the repair job Gabriel is doing with the help of Michael. 

Michael looked after Adam’s soul for millennia. He knows how to do an actual soul healing versus the quick fixes that Sam’s been receiving. It’s a slow going process but they’ve got nothing but time since Castiel is going to be down for the count for the new few weeks. 

Sam never thought he’d be grateful to have someone in there seeing him entirely but with Gabriel it’s different and he finds himself basking in the warmth. 

He feels accepted. 

He feels favoured. 

He feels loved. 

He feels the inclination to send Gabriel a telepathic message. 

_The world may be ending and I don’t know where we’re going to end up but_ _you need to know_ _that w_ _hen I'm with you_ _all my fears seem irrelevant._

 _I hope you stay forever._


	17. Haniel Long

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the lateness of this chapter. It was my birthday weekend and Memorial Day weekend and I took a break. I'm back now.

_so much of what is best in us is bound up in our love of family that it remains the measure of our stability because it measures our sense of loyalty_

One week after  Cas has been bestowed  his new title (and accompanying appendages) we find Dean gently messaging his back. The wings haven’t sprouted yet but the ridges that line his back are there. It’s weird to him because the wings aren’t even on  Cas's vessel and yet that’s how his body is reacting. 

“I think it’s because  I’ve been in this vessel for so long, it  _ is _ my body.” 

Dean’s hands still. “You in my head,  Cas ?” 

“Sorry, Dean . My capabilities reach is significantly stronger. I'll have to relearn how to  keep you out.” 

Dean laughs. “You’re saying your  wifi has been upgraded?” 

Cas gives him one of his  Cas smiles. “Yes, it would appear so.”

“That’s cool, man.”

“I’m glad you think so. Hopefully you’ll remember how ‘cool’ it is when I accidentally pluck out one of your private thoughts.”

Dean is about to respond when there’s a slight knock on his door. 

“Come in.”

It’s Michael. Every time Dean sees him he thinks of how he sold his dad on Baby. The idea that he could have potentially been driving around this whole time in a van gives him the heebie jeebies. The fact that that was probably the only time John ever paid attention to anything he had to say isn’t lost on him. 

He clears his throat. He doesn’t really like thinking about John. There are too many bad memories there and he isn’t as evolved as he wants the others to think. 

He smiles tightly at Michael. He wants to like him, wants to trust him, wants to accept him but it’s slow going.  For now all he can see is John. 

Brain processes are mind numbing, if Dean thinks on it too much. For one, the John that Michael resembles isn’t even the John that Dean doesn’t want around but something about, he’s not sure, maybe it’s because it’s Michael, it gives him bad John vibes. But for Adam, he must try. 

“What’s up, Mike?” 

“Michael’s fine, thanks.” 

Dean nods tersely. 

“ What's up, Michael?”

Michael points toward  Cas , who’s lying down, head resting on his arms. 

“I came to see how  Castiel is  faring.” 

Cas lifts his head  in Michael’s direction. 

“Cas is fine, thanks.” Cas responds all but baring his teeth. 

Dean hides his smirk by looking down. It can’t ever be said that  Cas doesn’t stand up for him. 

“Or Cassie.” Cas continues, pointedly. 

Now Dean is fighting off a laugh  that’s threatening to escape. 

Cas does not like “Cassie.” He’s only saying that  to rile Michael up. 

_ We really don’t know how to back off from  _ _ antagonising _ _ Beings that are stronger than us,  _ Dean admits to himself . Maybe if they weren’t the way that they are they wouldn’t be in a battle against  _ God _ . 

He chances a look up at Michael and is surprised to see him smiling. 

“ Touché .”

Dean moves away from Cas, expecting Michael to move in and do whatever he does but he stays where he is  and, in a voice barely above a whisper calls Adam’s name. Dean involuntarily winces. He and Adam still aren’t on the best terms, speaking to one another only when necessary and he admits to going out of his way to avoid him. 

A minute or so later finds Adam at the door. 

“Hi baby.” He tells Michael, grinning at him widely. Dean watches the interaction with interest. Michael is a fascinating Being, the  first-born archangel, and he’s called “baby" by Dean’s younger brother. For the millionth time, Dean wonders what his life is. 

Their relationship intrigues Dean because it’s the only time he sees Michael act, well, human. His vessel loses all stiffness  and even his vernacular becomes casual. His eyes get soft and  he just...relaxes. Visibly. It’s like away from Adam he’s holding his breath the whole time and when Adam comes around again he finally exhales. 

It makes Dean wonder about his brother. What is it about him that gives him such power over Michael? And does he know he could break him? Does he know not to?  Dean is surprised to realize that it isn’t out of concern for the world that he doesn’t want Michael to hurt. It’s out of concern for Michael. Everyone deserves to have a person that’s with them through everything. Much as he has  Cas . 

He glances down at  Cas then and the thought comes  whether he’s that person for  Cas too. Does  Cas know Dean will never leave him? That he’s going to stick with him until the end of the world?  Dean hopes so but makes a mental note to verbalize it later. He needs to make sure. 

His attention is brought back to the group when  Adam moves closer to  Cas , as though inspecting him. 

“What are you doing?” he can’t help but ask. 

Adam doesn’t look up, just motions toward Michael. 

“I always wanted to be a doctor. Since I can’t go back to school  Mihk is teaching me about treating supernatural beings.”

Dean’s eyes widen. “That’s- that’s actually a really good idea.” 

Adam rolls his eyes at him. “What? Did you think you had the monopoly  on coming up with shit on your own too?”  His tone is both caustic and quiet as he continues pressing his fingers here and there on  Cas who only occasionally grunts. 

“Adam.” Michael cuts in before Dean can say anything . Adam waves him off, muttering “yeah, yeah" below his breath. 

“What about Jack?” Dean asks.

“What  _ about _ Jack?” Adam asks. 

“Well, I thought he was going to be the new healer.” 

“Jack is three. I'm over a thousand. Thought maybe Jack would, I don’t know, want the opportunity to learn how to be a kid before we throw him to the ghouls or wolves or whatever.” 

Dean can’t deny the sting that goes through him.  Cas must feel it because he moves around until he’s in a sitting position. 

“You know damn good and well that wasn’t Dean or Sam’s fault. If you wish to cast the blame on anyone do so on John Winchester for keeping you in the dark. If you feel inclined to take it out on someone alive then I would point you on Michael’s direction. The Apocalypse coming into fruition was, after all, his only goal for a very long time.”

No one says anything for a beat. Dean can feel the anger coming off Adam in waves so he does the only thing he can think to do. What he should have done with Sam. 

“If you want to go, I won’t stop you. You can still be a doctor. You have Michael with you.  He can fix everything so that you’re still alive.”

“Are you kicking me out?”

“No, Adam, I'm not.  I just don’t want you to think that you escaped one cage to be trapped somewhere else. I don’t want it to feel like an illusion of freedom, I want it to feel like freedom.  And if you can’t or simply don’t want to do it here then that’s ok.  The door will always be open.”

Adam finally looks at him. The two  stare at each other, gauging  each other's sincerity before Adam shakes his head. 

“I don’t want to go anywhere. Michael and I, we belong here. But I don’t want him or I to feel like outcasts, I don’t want him or I to feel like the proverbial third wheel. Michael is still treated differently by everyone and I'm still treated with indifference by everyone. If we are going to be here then I want that to change. Michael is too important to me to allow him to be treated like or to feel like some sort of  second-class citizen. He is to me what Cas is to you. What Gabriel is to Sam. I don’t know how to make you understand.”

Dean glances at Michael . He doesn’t say anything just looks back at Dean. 

He sighs and turns back to Adam. 

“He’s hard for me to read,” he admits quietly,  “it makes me feel uneasy. Like at any moment he could switch sides. I might be projecting from who he used to be, who I met. That was a cold bastard and I’ve spent over a decade loathing him.  It’s hard for me to coincide that Michael with this Michael. It’s hard for me to trust him. To look at him and not want to trap him indefinitely in a ring of holy fire.  I'm sorry, Adam. But to answer your question, I don’t want you to leave. I want you here. I like having you here. You’re my brother.”

“And you’d stay somewhere  Cas wasn’t wanted?”

The answer is immediate.

“No.”

Adam looks at him pointedly. They’ve reached a stalemate. 

He continues his examination of  Cas before turning  to Michael. 

“Wings will sprout sometime in the next day. So  far, the body looks good and based on heart rate and muscular density, his body appears to be getting ready for the changes. He’s a little swollen but if Dean continues his ministrations any fluids that have accumulated on his vessel will dissipate. On his Form I can see that his second and third vortices have distended, assumedly to make room for the growths, his vessel's cervical vertebrae might also feel remnants of his Form's spinal gyre as it also adjusts for the appearance of the new head. Aside from that everything else seems to be coming in smoothly.”

Dean’s brain has come to a screeching halt. 

_ My  _ _ True Voice and Form can be perceived by some special humans. I thought you would be able to. _

The memory comes tumbling to Dean who is staring at Adam in shock. 

“You can see True Forms? !”

“Um, yes. Otherwise I’d have been blinded when  Mihk introduced himself to me. Did you forget that?” 

Holy Shit. 

Sam is going to shit bricks. 

“Sam!” Dean hollers, not taking his eyes off Adam  as though fearing he’ll disappear if he does. 

He hears Sam thundering down the hall and he bursts into the room with Ruby’s  ever-present blade in hand. 

“What? What Dean?” he asks, breathlessly. 

“He can see True Forms.” He says, pointing at Adam almost accusingly. Cas thinks he might be pouting. The small smirk on Michael’s face indicates he thinks so too and the two  brothers share a quick smile between them. 

“ Wait, you can?” 

“I can hear their True Voice too.” Adam  replies dryly. “Why? Does that suddenly make me more valuable to the team?” 

“Duh!” Dean exclaims, “You can totally spy for us.” 

“Spy on who?” he asks, warily, a little surprised Dean admitted to it. 

“Cas! Gabe! When they’re talking about us and we don’t know. You’ll be our secret weapon. They’ll never know what hit ‘em.”

Adam can’t help but laugh then as he realizes Dean isn’t trying to send him into the trenches. 

“Dean, I'm right here.”  Cas reminds him. 

Michael can’t help but join the others in laughter as they tease Dean for completely forgetting one of his supposed targets  was literally in the room. 

It’s the first time that Dean feels completely relaxed with Michael in the room and there and then he makes up his mind. Adam has to be important to him. He’s his brother. He has to know him, to love him and if to love him is to love Michael then Dean will do it. 

“Do you drink?” He asks suddenly, his mouth doing that word vomit it tends to do when he’s trying to get something important out. 

Michael makes a so-so notion with his hand. It’s amusing. 

“From time to time. Adam likes for me to try new things.”

“ Mmm . Would you like to go grab a drink sometime?”

The whole room pauses, like they’ve taken a collective breath and are waiting for Michael’s response before they can exhale. 

“We can’t really leave right now.” Michael points out. 

Dean waves him away. “I’m sure Gabriel can do a pop dimension for us so we can hang out at a bar.”

Michael arches a brow. “I can do it too.”

Dean laughs. “I’m so accustomed to that being Gabriel’s bag of tricks that I forget that’s not only his skillset.”

Michael nods. “I understand. And sure, we can have Gabriel do it. He’s probably better at it, since he has experience and all.” It sounds like it hurts a little to admit it and Dean hides a smile. Probably not easy being the most powerful being in the room yet still know so little about so much. 

Dean looks over at Cas to share his smirk and is surprised when Cas’s brow is furrowed and he’s looking back and forth between Michael and him with something that looks a whole lot like defeat in his eyes. It takes Dean a few seconds before he realizes what he’s seeing but when he gets  it, he politely turns back to the others and asks for a few minutes alone with Cas. After they oblige, Dean goes and sits close to where Cas is, his bones creaking the whole way down. He groans. 

“I’m really no spring chicken anymore, Cas.”

He receives a small smile in return. “I think you’ve aged pretty well, Dean. Distinguished.”

“Hey now, that’s what you call a man who’s hitting 60. I’m not there yet Cas. But,” he continues, “you sure you’re not going to want to trade me in for a younger model?”

Cas stares at him. “Considering that I've repeatedly kept you over various offers of a kingdom, I  think it’s safe to say I’m here to stay, Dean.” 

Dean blushes. He grins at Cas. “You don’t think it’s safe to say I’m here to stay too?”

Cas looks down. He understands now. 

“You were meant to be his True Vessel for a reason, Dean.”

“Funny, because it’s you I can’t ever get out of my mind and only you that I'll ever offer my body to again." He says, purposely inserting everything that could possibly mean into it.

Cas's eyes widen but then-

“Have you considered that perhaps it’s because you don’t know him very well yet?”

“Cas,” Dean starts, “first of all, he’s with Adam, I would never. And second, even if he weren’t no one is you. You’re the one who makes me laugh, who makes me love, the one who helps me have faith when it feels like this is finally it. You’re the one who saw both the worst and best parts of me and chose to stay. Cas, there is no way in hell, heaven, or anything in between, that I would ever  choose anyone else.”

It seems like his words finally hit home when Cas turns to look up at him and smiles so bright it makes Dean’s heart clench. 

“I love you, Sunshine.”

“I love you too, Dean.”

Yeah, everything’s going to be alright. 


	18. Oliver Wendell Holmes

_where we love is home, home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts_

_I’d forgotten about some basic human_ _emotions,_ Adam emotes at Michael. It’s easier to just talk to him in his head. That’s how they communicated for over a thousand years, after all. It’s not something you just switch off. Not to mention most of his language is now an eclectic mix of Enochian and English, occasionally some other language will be thrown in because there are some words in some languages that have no translation in others and, again, Italian ended up being his favourite. 

_ What do you mean? _

Adam throws  Michael a quick side eye, trying to determine whether he’s just feigning ignorance before  he remembers that Michael doesn’t do that. Adam used to not either but apparently being top side means he’s turning human again- especially where all the messy emotions are concerned.  Dammit. 

“Nevermind" he says then, reverting to English and speaking aloud. 

Michael stops him mid walk. 

_ Adam, nothing you ever have to say is unimportant, you know that. _

It’s not a question but Adam answers it anyway. 

“ Castiel is right. ”

“ Castiel is rarely right. He’s still a fledgling by my standards. And I still don’t know what you’re referring to.”

Adam sighs and pushes the image of  Castiel looking between Michael and Dean  with a despondent look on his face. Michael feels confused so Adam antes up  and explains. 

_ Jealousy. He was jealous and it made me feel jealous.  _

**_ Jealous about what? _ **

_ You and Dean. You both would probably _ _ pair much better together.  _

**_ You mean because he was  _ ** **_ my _ ** **_ intended vessel? _ **

Adam nods. 

“It doesn’t work that way.  He was my intended vessel because  we shared similar backgrounds  and his bloodline made it possible for him to be my vessel but as we’ve seen that’s a moot point because he was ultimately different than I was.  He would have never killed Sam whereas I…” he trails off. 

“Anyway,” he continues, “that’s enough  right there for me to discount everything else, especially in light of finding out about my Father’s intentional manipulations.”

“But I-". 

“But nothing, Adam. With Dean  Winchester I would have been nothing more than a machine. I would have been the Sword and that is all. But you, you make me  _ human.”  _

Adam stares at him. “And you think that’s a good thing?”  he asks, slowly, turning the words over in his head. 

“Yes.” Michael says firmly, leaving no room for discussion.  Adam releases a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding before turning inward  and giving Michael’s grace a hug, feeling Michael wrap it around his soul. He closes his eyes, enjoying the  feeling of being  _ held,  _ of feeling completely safe. Until Lucifer had escaped he’d  spent a lot of time hidden deep within the depths of Michael’s grace. Lucifer could never reach him. 

“Oi!” a voice says, startling Adam.  “Not in front of the kids!” It’s Gabriel and he’s pretending to shield Sam’s eyes who can’t even see what they’re doing and is trying to bat Gabriel’s hand away. 

“Bite me, brother.” Michael responds , not letting go.

Adam turns to Gabriel who’s grinning impishly and Sam who looks shocked at Michael’s relaxed  vernacular. 

“What?” he says, shrugging. “It’s warm in there.” 

“Of course it’s warm, your naughty bits are touching.” 

Adam laughs before ignoring them and turning to  physically hug Michael who is now in a slightly smaller body than his. 

“I love you immensely.”

“And I you,  Adam.”

Adam turns his head slightly towards Gabriel and Sam who are still watching and  decides to yank their chain. 

“Want to find out how you feel about kissing?”

Michael nods  and it’s amid cries of  _ ew _ _ , gross that’s my brother  _ and the sound of footsteps rapidly moving away  that Michael and Adam share their first kiss .


	19. Erich Fromm

_if I am what I have, and if I lose what I have, who, then, am I?_

It’s three days later and Michael has gotten the opportunity to meet more of what he’s dubbed the Winchester Flock. It’s not his flock, in fact he’s just a part of it but as the oldest archangel he’s put it upon himself to meet all the people the Winchesters felt like they needed to survive. There are more, or so he’s been told, but they aren’t there yet. Dean had called them the day before and they were making their way to the bunker, even a family of werewolves that he couldn’t deny he was interested in meeting. 

He’d even shared a conversation with the girl, Charlie who had interesting tales of both leviathan (it intrigued Michael that so many monsters were able to co-exist with humanity and he wondered what they thought about the world ending. He filed it away to bring up at their family meeting later.) and the World of Oz. 

“How’d you die?” he’d asked her. He felt anger over her death, at this family of  _ Styne _ and he’d wanted to avenge her before she’d laughed and said that  Dean had already done that. 

“Died gruesomely is what I heard.”

“Good.” He’d replied. He meant it.  The girl Charlie had one of the brightest souls he’d come across. It was a rainbow, resplendent and bright and shiny. She didn’t have a cruel bone in her body.  She was a very good example of humanity and her eyes had shone brightly when he told  her so. 

He would have continued conversing with her but she’d brought up making him her handmaiden in something called “LARP- ing " and after a quick dip into her head to find out what it meant, he made his excuses and departed quickly. Her laughter  told him she knew exactly what he was doing. 

The one who had eluded him was this  quiet person, Kaia. But it seemed their time had come and he stood before her and watched as her eyes darted one way and another trying to escape but he stood in her way. 

Michael might have moved but he truly meant her no harm and knew if she just listened she’d  realize that. 

“Hello,  dreamwalker .” 

She fidgeted and pulled at her clothing, looking like she desperately wished she could be anywhere else. 

“I mean you no harm.” The words flew out of his mouth and he cringed internally.  He felt like saying so carried the threat that he could and he wouldn’t. 

Somehow though, it worked because she  almost completely straightened then and pushed her curly hair back. 

“My name is Kaia.” 

“I'm Michael.” 

“I know.”

“You didn’t like being a  dreamwalker .”

“No.”

“Well, the chances of you having to do it again are pretty slim.” 

“How so?”

“There aren’t any other worlds left.”

It had been the right thing to say, Michael saw, as the girl relaxed completely and a small smile graced her face. 

“You’re right.”

“I usually am.” Michael responded shrugging. He was messing with her but Adam had told him that saying so  would make him obnoxious in a good way. 

Luckily she caught on to that because she gave him a small eye roll. 

“Definitely a Winchester.” She’d thrown back at him. She had a small streak of  snark and it reminded him of Adam. 

“Milligan .” He corrected her without thinking about it. 

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” It was Adam, walking into the kitchen where they were. 

“I'm Adam.” He said to Kaia, holding out his hand. She took it and gave it a small shake. 

“I'm Kaia.”

The trio had spent another thirty minutes just getting to know one another before Gadreel walked in. He took one look at Michael, turned around, and left. 

Michael sighed.

“I'll go talk to him.” Adam said, getting up. 

“No, let me. I don’t want him to hurt you.”

“Shared grace, remember?” Adam said, giving Michael a quick kiss on his head. “He couldn’t hurt me if he tried.”

Michael considered it before deferring to Adam. Adam was better at talking to people than he was, even if Gadreel was his brother. 

He turned back to Kaia. 

“Family, huh?” 

She shot him a rueful look. “I wouldn’t really know.”

At Michael’s questioning look she explained. “I'm an orphan.” 

“Oh.”  He didn’t know what he was supposed to say. 

“It’s ok.” 

“Is it?”

“Is it better to have a family?”

He was quiet before answering. 

“I don’t actually know. I'm starting to feel like maybe I’ve never had a family and the one I did have was gone a long time ago. Even now…” his voice trailed off, unsure of how to put what he felt into words. 

He felt like an outcast. There to play a role and that was it. He suddenly felt like he was once again just the Sword. 

But she interrupted his thoughts. 

“Their father figure says that family don’t end in blood.”

“I'm not quite sure I understand that.” He admitted. 

She shrugged. 

“I don’t have a family. You don’t have a family. We could be each other’s family.”

“Just like that?” 

“Yeah. I’ve never had an older brother. You want to be mine?”

The corner of Michael’s mouth ticked up. 

“I would love nothing more.”


	20. Ralph Waldo Emerson

_what lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us_

“Tell me about them.”

Crowley will never admit how he startled and seriously, is it a bloody Winchester thing to be able to come up next to someone unnoticed? He looks to his right where Henry Winchester has taken a seat next to him and gives him a once over. He’s assimilated very nicely to their current decade and he sits there with a fitted white button down, three buttons undone, and a nice pair of black slacks. His hair is very ‘men in the 50’s’ but it works on him and honestly, the Winchester clan are all good-looking sons of bitches. 

Crowley takes a sip of his whiskey before snapping one into existence for his new compadre before looking where his index finger points. His thinks he knows what Henry is asking but confirms his suspicions anyway. 

“What’s this information worth to you?” He can’t help but ask because he was a demon for a long time, still is really, and ok, bad habits are hard to break. 

At Henry’s pointed look he motions to Bobby, who’s sitting with the brothers, in all his flannel, plaid, and trucker cap glory. The gorgeous bastard. “Why not ask him? He’s the adopted father.”

“That’s preciously why. I want an outsiders' point of view.”

Crowley snorts, delicately of course. “Mate, if you want an outsiders’ point of view, you’d be better off asking someone not in this room. Or maybe  Samandriel . Gadreel. Kaia. Not me.”

“Fine, I’m curious about your relationship with them.”

“Very well. I assume you also want to know about Adam?”

“He’s also a Winchester, is he not?”

“True but he’s the one everyone forgets.”

“I do not intend to forget.”

Crowley looks over at Grandfather Winchester then, taking note of the determination and ferocity that his eyes tell. 

“Were you as well known, acknowledged and held in  honour as them? In your time?”

Henry shakes his head. “Christ, no. They are true legacies. The Men of Letters that will go down in history as the best the Supernatural world had to offer. The only thing I get to claim is that they came from my bloodline.”

Crowley shrugs. “It’s quite possible that you might have been, you just travelled into the future and died here and never found out.”

“On the other hand, it’s possible I never made it back because if I had all of this would have gone very differently.”

Crowley nods in agreement at what Henry’s not saying. Sodding Chuck. 

“I don’t know Adam all that well, but none of us do really, with the exception of the original  archdouche of course.” Let it be known that Crowley is still not over being exploded into chunky bits.  Arsehole . 

“What I do know is that he was the result of a one-night stand Daddy Winchester had. He and mummy died at the hand of ghouls and he was later brought back as a backup plan in the event that Squirrel over there couldn’t be coerced into saying yes. I think he intended to be a doctor. When Dean said yes to Michael, he booked it before he had to follow through and Adam here got it instead. The anger from his earlier outburst comes from a place that I think everyone else here has felt at some point or another. I was with them for many years and in the end, we were friends, or so I thought, but they accepted my death as a fact of life. They accept everyone’s deaths that way. It’s life it happens. But they don’t accept each others and whether that’s been designed that way by Chuck or if that’s all them, well, I don’t know. I just know that many times it comes across as them not caring about anyone else, well maybe now Feathers has been added to that mix, but themselves.”

Crowley stops as he realizes that he’s actually angry. He feels the bitterness well up on the inside and for a moment he wants nothing more than to poof out of there but of course, he can’t. 

He meets Dean’s eyes for a second and he sends him a wry smile before turning to Henry. 

“And even with all that, you can’t help but love them. You can’t help but want to be a better monster, a King of Hell with a heart, a rogue archangel who stops playing deadly pranks, a vampire who denies himself human blood, who willingly goes back to purgatory to save Sam. Even with as selfish as they are, you can’t help but want to do whatever you can do to help them. Even at the expense of the very world or worse, your own mortality.”

“And Sam. I call him Moose and he thinks I do it to tease him but the reality and Chuck’s honest truth is that I do it to make myself feel better. Less threatened. Samuel is...deadly. He works hard to keep it reigned in but occasionally when something happens that really ticks him off you can see glimpses of the Boy King who could have been. It’s terrifying. More so than when Dean was a demon, more so than any Prince of Hell, I’d even go so far to say that he’s more terrifying than Lucifer himself. If Lucifer had wanted to win the first Apocalypse go ‘round he should have worked with Sam instead of trying to control him. He would have won. Easy. He’s singled handedly faced off against so much bad or evil and won, he could be the leader of Hell right now if he wanted to. He’s the one who fought off Famine, you know? The Horseman? He’s capable of overcoming possessions from demons and angels alike, not to mention archangels. He’s got one of the strongest minds I know.” 

The admiration for Samuel Winchester seeps through his voice and when he hears it his stops and looks at Henry. “I’m just saying, he’s a worthy adversary.” It can’t be known that he likes the little bastards. 

Henry gives him a  _ yeah right  _ look before turning to see his grandsons. Right now,  Cas has been deemed safe enough to be in gen pop as the grace is the last step so he has a little over a week before that comes in. The only evidence of additional strength are the wings Crowley can see coming in. Two sets and where his original wings had been black, likely from the time he’d spent searching for Dean in hell, these new pairs showcase his _original_ wing  colours . He looks like peacock. 

Dean has an arm around his waist and they’re sat around the large table playing a game of Never Have I Ever and drinking shots with Charlie, Ash, Balthazar, Benny, Adam, Michael, Sam and Gabriel. Crowley’s eyes travel over to Bobby who has removed himself from that table and is now sitting with Amara, Kevin, and Billie. They are most likely discussing the New World Order and Crowley feels something in his chest that feels a whole lot like pride at seeing Bobby be a part of that. He deserves to be there. He can only make the world better. He ignores the feeling of self-satisfaction that none of the Winchesters have been called over. Or the angels, arch or otherwise. Of course, he hasn’t either but somehow, he doesn’t mind. Bobby will tell him later. 

“And Dean?” Henry prompts him, pulling him from his observations. 

“Dean. Well, we’re going to need more whiskey.”

With a snap he switches their glasses from whiskey tumblers to highball glasses and summons a bottle of the world’s rarest whiskey. He serves himself and Henry the Macallan and barely has to consider his next step before sending Bobby his own glass. He watches him take a sip before turning astonished eyes Crowley’s way. Crowley is the former King of Hell; he absolutely does not blush back and fidget uncomfortably at the attention in response. 

He feels a set of eyes on him and when he turns, it’s Dean with a  _ what about me  _ look on his face. Crowley rolls his eyes but acquiesces, sending Dean a glass of the  Macallan 1926 too. He hopes the dumbass knows better than to down it. Dean takes a sip before excitedly offering some to  Cas , who, seriously? Wouldn’t know good scotch if it smacked him in the face. Disgusted he turns back to Henry, who is patiently waiting. 

“Dean is...”, he takes a deep breath as if to gear up for the word vomit he’s about to have in the world’s worst attempt to  encompass all the things Dean is, “Dean is a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma. Dean has been human, dead, alive, a vampire, a ghost, Death, angel, demon, prince of hell. He’s probably even been a god of some sort by now and I just don’t recall. And even though I probably don’t rank in his top ten  favoured people he’s my best friend. We’ve fought together, I’ve been his prisoner, he’s been mine, hell, we’ve  loved together too, if you know what I mean, it’s the summer of love Halo over there was referencing earlier. We’ve shared drinks, tortured, colluded, plotted, hunted. 

We’ve have been each other’s best friends and worst enemies and it’s all because ultimately Dean has, is and always will be, first and foremost heaven’s, no, the entire world’s Righteous Man. He is the truest definition of paradox,  self-contradictory in his actions many times but never in his mind, his heart, his soul. Never when it counts.”

He pauses and takes a long sip, summons a cigar and lights it. They’re in the library so naturally Moose gives him and then the books a pointed look. Crowley rolls his eyes at him and gives him his own pointed look in return- his cigar is smoke and fragrance free. 

“Cigar?” He offers Henry.

“Rolled tobacco if you please.”

“Sure. But it’s been a while since I rolled a cigarette, perhaps you would like to roll it?”

“Absolutely. Make it Cuban please.”

Crowley hands it over and sits back, watching as Henry expertly rolls the tobacco in his fingers. He’s not the only one watching. Several heads have turned but at Crowley’s glare they turn back. He doesn’t want anyone meddling right now that they’re discussing important business. 

“I wonder what it was about Dean specifically that made him destined for such a. .. role , if you will.” Henry comments, licking the rolling paper and carefully pinching it close.

“I’ve given that question a lot of thought,” Crowley admits. “The best  conclusion I’ve come to is that if there were ever to be a champion for humanity it would have to be someone who can honest to goodness relate with everyone in some way, shape or form. Dean can. Dean’s been all of the aforementioned but he’s also been a caretaker, he’s been a dad, he’s been a brother, he’s lied, cheated, and even if he’s never paid for sex he’s definitely slept with hookers, he’s a womanizer. I’ve seen him covered, from head to toe, in blood, he was hell’s most creative torturer, he’s killed without remorse, killed for vengeance, murdered in cold blood. He’s stolen, romanced someone for nefarious purposes, including Amara, hustled people, has an  _ unhealthy  _ attachment to that metal trap he calls an auto...but- but if you were ever to see beyond that, to find out  _ why  _ Dean did so many of those things that make him seem like a monster, you’d see that it was for love. For love of someone else, to take someone  else's place, to pay for someone else’s sin. Much like Jesus,” he laughs  humourlessly , “and that’s ultimately what makes him so great. Not to oversimplify it but whatever your ailment is, Dean will understand it. And even if he doesn’t claim the title of Righteous Man, not then, not now, even if he doesn’t acknowledge it, Dean does use it. He’ll pass judgement of his own, find you friend or foe. And everyone will just step into place and do what he asks.”

“Surely it’s not that simple?”

“Don’t call me Shirley,” He smiles at Henry in an attempt for levity, “but yes. If anything, this room is proof enough of that. All of these powerful people here and although they include Sam in their decision it’s only because we’ve all long since learned that Dean won’t be going anywhere or doing anything without his brother. But really, it’s all for him. How do you  feel, you suppose, to truly have the entire world at your disposal?”

Crowley and Henry sit for a few minutes in silence, Crowley in contemplation, Henry probably digesting everything he's been told when they're motioned over by Billie and Crowley hides his smile. 

New World Order business? Damn straight they better be including him. 


	21. C.S. Lewis

_experience is a brutal teacher, but you learn. my god, do you learn_

Dean is in the middle of carrying another load of  Cas's (well they had originally been his but it seemed that  Cas had unceremoniously decided that Dean’s clothes are also his  now- and no, that doesn’t do things to Dean, he’s not a  _ girl _ ) shirts to throw in the wash.  Cas's grace is slowly starting to come in but (as explained to him by Gabriel because he was too agitated at the time to listen to Michael) since he hadn’t been fully powered at the time, the process is taking a little longer than it should because first his original grace has to be replenished and capped off before moving to the rest of it. Since they’re doing it on a crunch line  Cas is more or less suffering symptoms like a human. Basically, he’s sweating his ass off. 

Anyway, point being that he’s going through a  lot of shirts and Dean’s been washing them because even though they could be grace cleaned by pretty much anyone in the bunker,  Cas insists he wants them to smell like Dean. Whatever that means. 

He’s halfway to the bunker’s laundry room when his grandfather joins him. Dean’s not had a whole lot of opportunity to talk to him one-on-one so he’s momentarily thankful but then Henry opens his mouth and Dean wants to run. 

“Where’s John?”

_ Fuck. _

Dean looks around desperately, hoping for any kind of interruption and naturally in a bunker with a shit ton of people now is the time they’ve all decided to fuck off and leave him in peace. 

Even Balthazar’s annoying ass isn’t there. Balthazar has taken up some awkward mantle where he’s “helping” Dean with  Cas . Dean had been annoyed about the intrusion at first but he’d walked in on Balthazar giving  Cas massages that Dean hadn’t known to do because he didn’t have wings and he’d been very grateful. Dean has seen how much Balthazar loves  Cas and has welcomed him into the fold.

To be completely honest he’s a little in awe about how easily he forgave  Cas for killing him. Dean occasionally still remembers the time that Sam beat the shit out of him (only because he was hopped up on demon blood or that would have never happened) and how he was barely able to look past that for the longest. He doesn’t think he’d have forgiven him quite as easily as  Balth seems to have if Sam had actually  _ killed  _ him but Balthazar has explained that it wasn’t really  Cas . He thinks  Cas was under a lot of pressure and just broke. Dean’s brother was under a lot of pressure and under the influence and if he’d killed Dean, he still  woulda come back and made his life miserable.

Anyway.

“Where’s your mom? Where’s John?”

Fuck. He’s not getting  outta this one. By then they’re at the laundry room and Dean turns to look at Henry. 

“I don’t even know what to call you. Do I call you Henry? Grandfather? Pop? I think I’m older than you are in your timeline.”

That may be true but when Henry smiles at him he makes Dean feel like a grandson. It’s a warm smile. One that makes him think of baseball games and playing catch. Of getting ice cream with his grandad after a hot summer day and of going fishing. None of that ever happened in Dean’s life, aside from the bits that Bobby tried to insert but in Henry’s genuine smile, Dean  _ finds  _ it. Old Dean would have been pissed that Henry had died in the future, robbing him of the chance to know him, but this Dean sees Chuck’s handiwork for the manipulation it is. He needed Dean to be a certain way so he took away all the people who were meant to shape him a different way and left him with  _ John.  _ Well fuck Chuck and fuck John. He’s going to fight against every single “hunter” instinct and fight for the Dean he was meant to be. 

He’s gotten a second chance to know love. Fully and completely. He’s not going to let that go because of a crappy made up childhood. He’s going to fight for what he knows he deserves. 

Mind made up, he exhales and unfurrows his brow, smiling at Henry. 

“Grandpop it is. Come on, help me out and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

Henry follows him in and helps Dean put three loads in before they both straighten themselves and their shirts out and turn to face one another.

It is time.

“It’s not your fault,” Dean begins, eloquent as ever, “but John was a grade-A asshole.”

And it’s there, in a dusty laundry room that Dean spends the next three hours. About ten minutes in, he asked Gabriel for chairs and food while he and his grandpop talked about Dean’s childhood. Dean told him about the first time Mary burned, told him the backstory about that too, told him about psychic Sam, about Missouri, about finding their dad, about Meg, Azazel, the Colt, about how he slowly learned that altruism existed even in so-called monsters, beginning with Gabriel, Death, Benny, Lenora, Patrick, Garth, Amy, Maritza, Tasha and so many more. He tells his grandpa about the people that have helped them along the way, how he’ll never forget Agent Henriksen’s death nor Nancy’s; how he remembers Diana. He even talks about the monsters they’ve sadly had to kill, like Madison and his daughter, Emma. 

Dean talks and talks and talks. And he explains. He explains that John isn’t there because Dean still remembers the last thing John told him- to prepare himself to kill Sammy, he explains the beating he got the time the  Shtriga almost got Sam, the many times he had to cheat, lie and steal his way into food and shelter and medicine because Sam was sickly growing up. Dean confesses to his fear that Sam would stay short because he didn’t get enough milk, fruits or veggies. 

“All we got was gas station crap.”

He explains how even though he gives Sam shit for all the healthy food he eats he hopes he never stops because he still feels like Sam’s body is taking in everything it didn’t back then and how he’s eternally grateful that Charlie set them up to be well off enough that Sam can have the best of the best. Kale, quinoa, and all the other organic shit that his little (but very healthy) heart desires.

Dean’s story doesn’t go in order, there’s too much to cover and too little time, but he thinks he hit all the most important stuff- with the exception of one thing- Cas . 

“John had a very strong opinion about how anything non-human was a monster. In the monster community he was considered a badass and Sam and I got shot and killed over some idiots who blamed us for the Apocalypse. They thought we were working with demons because of Crowley and Ruby. If he’d ever met  Cas , he’d shoot first and ask questions later. I would never subject  Cas to that.

There’s also the small detail that Cas is male-shaped. I’m not going to give excuses and say he’s technically not a male because angels are genderless. He’s in a male vessel and that makes me gay in some way, shape or form. I don’t care. But John would and I am not the same person I was at 26 and still his soldier. I still claim that many of the things that happen are above my pay grade but the fact of the matter is that I am in that pay grade now. I have been for a long time and I’ll be damned before I come and allow John to think he’s some bigshot because if he were a hunter now, he’d be one of the ones Sam and I would discount as being ignorant and idiotic. Neither of us has been black and white for a long time. The whole world is a fucked-up game of Fifty Shades of Grey and no I'm not explaining that to you, grandpop. You’ll have to wait and ask Sammy. 

Anyway...I hope I haven’t upset you too much by who your son became. It really wasn’t your fault. It was moms. She made the original demon deal.

“So,” he says, spreading his hands slowly, he really needs to go check on  Cas . He left Balthazar and  Samandriel in there with him but he wants to see for himself that he’s ok, “that’s the whole story.”

Henry’s been quiet for a while and Dean finds that he can’t look at his grandpop.  He knows he’s dumped quite a bit on him and…Dean’s  afraid. He’s been rejected by his family his whole life and Henry’s probable rejection shouldn’t hurt. It should be nothing more than a blip on his radar after his mother, his father, his  _ brother,  _ and yet , and yet. 

And yet, he’s trying to hold back the sting of familiar burning in his eyes. He’s so damn tired. Tired of his job, tired of the expectations that have been placed on him his entire life, tired of  saving the a world that doesn’t seem to want to be saved, he’s tired of  _ life.  _

The closer he gets to the door, the longer his grandfather stays quiet, the heavier the burden seems to get and he wants to say something, the words are right there, but the tightness in his throat prohibits them from coming out.  And why? Why, why, why is this the hand he was dealt? 

That particular question seems to be popping up more and more  and it feels like the answer is there, just out of his reach, held back by forces that are  way stronger than he’ll ever be because he’s just one human and they’re immortal, omniscient and all seeing. And they don’t easily give up the answer. 

His hand is on the door when he hears his name. He freezes, quite sure he doesn’t want to hear what’s likely to be a verbal bashing. Not that he doesn’t deserve it, Chuck knows he does but he’s just-  he’s just a kid that grew up at the age of four, beholden to his 6 month old brother, always and forever. 

He almost misses Henry’s  question and his mind runs a replay of what it was. 

_ And Mary? _

“ My mom. She didn’t want to be here when she was brought back by Amara. She’s always…gone. Something is always more important than I- than we are. The others- they put her on their list, out of guilt most likely since Jack’s the one who lost control and ultimately killed her, but me…I can’t help but feel that she most likely  prefers heaven to being back here. At least there we are who she remembers us being, her perfect life, with John and four year old Dean who had stars in his eyes  and was probably going to be more than a hunter. And Sammy, perfect baby Sammy.” 

Dean’s surprised that the bitterness he thought he’d feel at the words  is not actually present. He’s…resigned. He’s not going to ask for his mom back. 

“Even when she was here , or alive, rather, she’d wanted to stay in Apocalypse World ‘I’d be of more help here, Dean'. It wasn’t even her fucking world. We wouldn't have seen each other again. And she didn't care.” And  _ that  _ comes out bitterly because Dean can’t swallow down the sting he’d felt, the  _ slap  _ to the face, the betrayal he’d felt down to his  _ core _ when she’d told him that . 

He runs a hand over his face, trying in vain to rub out the tired. He feels old. 

“Time heals a lot,” he tells his grandfather, “but never all of it. Far too often it just keeps you trapped in your memories, trapped in what-if's and  shoulda , coulda, woulda's. And even more frequently, time shows you just how worthless, just how half a man you really are.” 

With that last parcel of wisdom, he walks out the door. 


	22. Mother Teresa

_life is a game- play it...life is too precious, do not destroy it_

Sam’s in the library, pretending to read when Missouri walks by him. He’s not had a chance to properly talk to her. He realizes he doesn’t even know if she was brought back psychic . 

“Hey Missouri.”

“Hey yourself, sweet boy.” 

There’s something about Missouri that always wants to make Sam curl up on her lap and cry it out. Even now at her kind words  _ because she doesn’t know  _ his forehead scrunches and he has to fight back tears. 

It feels like these days they’re  always  there, barely hidden below the surface. He thought that having all his favorite people around again would help him feel better but all it’s done is make him feel even more guilty. All these people, to some capacity, died because of him.  He doesn’t blame Jo, Adam or anyone else for their harsh words. He deserves it. That and so much worse. 

“Samuel, I think you’ve more than paid for what you’re construing as sins.”

He shakes his head sadly, “you’ve no idea". 

“Don’t I?”

He looks at her then. Does she? But the eyes are still windows to the soul and in them he sees himself as she sees him. And he’s  _ good. _

_ How can you possibly think that?  _ His eyes beseech , w _ hen _ _ you know all the things I’ve done?  _

“Because none of us are irredeemable and regardless of what the weight around your shoulders is telling you, neither are you. ”

“But I'm not most people.”

“But you are still people, right?”

He stops to think about it.

Michael and Gabriel have been helping heal his soul and it’s a slow process because it involves removing the angelic (and whatever else) masking tape  strip by strip and carefully healing the area before moving on, but already Sam can feel the difference.  The proof is in the way that  he feels warmer, in the way that he feels more alive, in the way that he’s not so tired (not physically anyway), in the way that he’s actually  hungrier these days,  like his body is becoming  _ human  _ and as such is demanding meat. Meat and potatoes. Healing him is turning him back into  your garden variety All American male and it feels good. 

He even breaths easier.  Deeper.

After a moment he nods. 

“So you are.”

So he is. 

He smiles then, more relaxed than he’s been. 

“How’ve you been, Missouri?”

She shrugs. 

“Oh, you know, the  age old story of dying and then being brought back to life by Death, archangels and who knows what else.” 

“Succinct.”  He laughs. 

“Indeed. But you can’t fool an old woman you know.  You’re sitting in here not reading, unless you’ve gained the ability to read upside down.” She points out quickly when he’d open his mouth to refute her words. 

He looks down. The book is, indeed, upside down. 

He tries not to laugh and mostly fails. 

He’s glad.  Gabriel’s main complaint about him is that he takes things too seriously. 

Gabriel. 

They  haven’t even kissed and yet Sam already knows he’s in love with him. 

Trust him to fall in love with the archangel least likely to  want to spend the rest of Sam’s natural life hanging out with him. Even if were but a blink to said archangel. 

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re entirely incorrect but as the old adage goes, experience is the best teacher.” Missouri interrupts before his mind can run away from him. For the umpteenth time. 

There go the tears again.

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve been insane now?” He asks her because at this point he doesn’t know whether it really was the demon blood that made him this way or if he was just born evil but it feels like between the insanity and his propensity to choose the options with the worst possible outcome ever, he’s just a big ass fuck up.

His mind scrambles as it flits from memory to memory, each one somehow  cringier than the last. From the time he and Dean got into a mental hospital by telling admissions the  _ truth  _ (and yeah, ok, telling the doctor his brother had an angel in a trench coat was funny as hell but that wasn’t the  _ point _ ), to Lucifer, to spending time in hell, to coming back soulless (and some of the stuff he’d done- he let Dean get bitten  _ and turned),  _ to almost killing  _ Bobby,  _ to letting Dean and  Cas rot in Purgatory, to almost  chosing Amelia, to running away when he was a kid, to running away to Stanford, to Brady, to  killing- well, is it any wonder that he feels like he’s more trouble than he’s worth?

“But if you were to ask your brother?” Missouri prods, gently. 

“Missouri, after Crowley and before Rowena, there was a staged coup, where  Cas was taken by some demon who wanted to rule. I told them to  _ heel  _ and they  _ did.  _ They obeyed me.  _ Me.  _ If that doesn’t scream meant to be evil, I don’t know what does. ” Sam tells her quietly. It’s something that keeps cropping up on his mind at the most inconvenient of times. How the demons had opted to flee than fight the former destined Boy King. 

“But if you were to ask your brother?” Missouri repeats. 

His glance at her borders on impatient  but she’s looking at him with the same serene look on her face, completely unbothered by what he’s told her.  It forces him to think. 

If he were to ask Dean,  what would he say? 

_ Dad said you’d go dark side. _

_ Sammy, down! _

_ You’re my responsibility.  _

_ You really think I’d let you die? _

_ Dude, you should seen your face.  _

_ It’s just a clown, Sammy. _

_ I won’t let the monsters get you, Sammy.  _

_ And I was what? Supposed to just let you go? _

_ I can’t let you die, man. You know I can’t. _

_ I can’t do this without you, Sammy _

**_ Yes, you can _ **

_ Alright then, I don’t want to _

And on and on until

_ Hiya Sammy. _ Pinned underneath his brother  who was arrogantly and smugly smiling down at him.

When Dean came to get him at Stanford , Sam didn’t want to go. He had  an interview the following Monday. To be granted entry into the prestigious  law program that Stanford boasted. 

After Jess was killed, he’d left it all behind. And he’d left Dean behind plenty of times too. 

Had told him over and over again to stop saving him. Had yelled at him after Gadreel, had beat him bloody  under Ruby’s influence, and in Chuck’s finale, he turned his brother into a monster.  All because he wanted to go and Dean is the strongest man on earth but he bends to Sam’s will every time. 

So. 

Does Dean think he’s worth it?

Yes. Yes he does. 

He looks  back at Missouri who has a smile on her face. 

“I’m tired.” He tells her. 

She nods. 

“So is he.”

“You think after Chuck we can die peacefully?”

She gives him a look.

“You think that after Chuck, you’ll want to?”

“Um, yes?”

“ _ Think,  _ child.”

It’s Charlie walking by, animatedly explaining her program to Gadreel who has a pinched look on his face like earthly things  are beyond his comprehension, that helps Sam understand. 

He turns back to her again. 

“They’ll still be monsters.”

“Always.” She agrees, easily. 

He bites his lip in contemplation. 

Die at peace or live in love.

“I'll have to continue to fight.”

“You will.”

He nods, mostly to himself. 

“So I'll fight.”

“Atta boy.”

She gets up then, smiling at Gabriel who has wandered in. 

“Missouri?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“I'm too old to fight, child, but I'm not too old to help.”

He nods at her gratefully before turning to Gabriel. 

“Want to sit?”

“Sure, let me just snap up a chair.”

The words are out before he can stop them. 

“How about my lap?”

Gabriel gives him an impish smile before plopping himself on Sam's lap. "I'd ask you if you're sure but I don't want to give you the opportunity to say no." He admits. 

Sam rearranges him until he's straddling Sam's lap. "There. Better."

"You ok, Sammich?"

Sam would answer, he really would, if he could but he's busy right now. Busy wrapping his arms around Gabriel's small body and bringing him closer, to where they're chest to chest. He's busy burrowing his head in his neck, breathing in his scent of chocolate and the way the air smells right before a big storm, he's busy focusing what he feels toward Gabriel until he hears a sharp intake of breath and only then does he minutely relax in his ministrations, content that Gabriel is receiving his message.

"You're so special, you know that? You're, like...gold", he says, trying, in vain, to find something priceless to describe all that Gabriel is."You're a treasure, _mi t_ _esoro."_ He whispers, because Adam is not the only one to have picked up additional languages. 

"You just like me for my awesome powers." Gabriel jokes. Sam pulls back enough to look him in the eye. 

"No, Gabriel. I love you because you were meant for me. I'd love you just the same if you were human. I don't care if you join the fight, I don't care if you choose to skip it. I only care that you stay. I only care that you let me in. I only care that you tell me when you are weathering through your own storms. I only care about you. And I'll take you any way that I can get you."

Gabriel stares at him, letting his all shields down and Sam sees how utterly terrified he is. Sees how happy he is to be back with his family but scared of facing his dad. Happy to be with Sam but scared of losing him, happy that he's been accepted there with them, but absolutely waiting for the other foot to drop, to be kicked out for stepping out of line. Fearful that who he is won't be enough for them to keep him around. 

The tears are coming back and this time Sam lets them fall because they aren't for him, they're for the smallest archangel- the one who had to run away from the ones who were meant to love him the most, who suffered a betrayal at his favourite siblings hand, who was left behind in another world, who up to now, has been shown time and time again that who he is isn't enough to save. 

"Never again, Gabriel. Never again. I promise. I'll never let you down again."

Gabriel grabs at his face and holds it on both sides, their foreheads touching. Sam can see his gold ringed eyes looking back at him earnestly and hopefully and full of so much love that it makes his breath hitch. Tipping his head down slightly, Sam reaches up and tilts Gabriel's head just a little and finally, _finally_ captures Gabriel's lips with his own.

Afterward, Gabriel gazes at him.

“You changed a lot.”

Sam shrugs, “a lot changed me.”

He stands then, hoisting Gabriel up a little higher on his waist and tries not to think about the day when he’ll be too old to do this.

“Where are we going?”

“To cuddle so I can steal your body heat.”

Gabriel’s laughter rings loud and resonant throughout the bunker.

It’s the loveliest sound Sam’s ever heard. 


	23. William Dobell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I really did not do this chapter justice. It feels disjointed to me. In some places it feels like She doesn't know much and in the next She's talking about barbecues and fireworks. What I'm trying to say it that She knows about the things that happen outside, hence the word fireworks. She's heard it outside. Does that make any sort of sense?
> 
> If you can think of a way to make it better please let me know in the comments. Thank you.

_a sincere artist tries to create something which is, in_ _itself, a living thing_

There’s a trail behind the bunker that’s seen a lot of use. The essence of Nature recognizes Sam’s energy print now. He doesn’t plow  through; he sticks to the clearing She’s made for him. Sometimes he’s out there when the sky is splitting and Mother Earth is delivering her bountiful gusts of water that Her Earth soaks up like it's starving (sometimes it is) and sheets of wind that She'll enjoy sifting through Her leaves and blades of grass. Sometimes he’s hobbling, barely able to walk but he continues on, and Nature does what it can to pass on healing qualities. Nature isn’t that strong anymore, for centuries and centuries it has felt its power being leeched. It has its suspicions about the culprit but She hopes it’s not the entity it is because, well, Nature has secrets of her own, forged over eons, through trial and error and ultimately learned when She sat back and watched Her inhabitants, everything from the first archangel to walk the earth, to the first witch, the alphas, Eve, the ones that were bore through them, the Leviathan, dinosaurs, and finally, the most precious, precocious, creative and grateful of them all, the humans. 

It was then that Nature had sat up and taken notes. Something was going to come, something many years from now but for it, merely a blink. Was it one day? Or two thousand years? She didn’t know but She could feel it coming closer and closer with every rotation She made around the sun. 

Then the whispers came, words that drifted out close enough for Her to hear. Sometimes spoken out loud, while the speakers sat on the hood of the piece of machinery they used to move around,  sometimes it was shouted at the skies. The day all the lights fell out of the sky She recognized Sam’s brother’s voice as he screamed for someone stronger than he to come help. She sent him Gadreel for in Her most beautiful garden he was the one who tended to it with the upmost care.

The rotations around the sun seemed to come faster now. There was still much She didn’t know but She did know that there was going to be a great battle and She was going to need everything She had learned and was still learning because as long as humans were around there was learning to be done. 

Nature knew the time had come the first time She felt Sam Winchester there, in the trail behind the old Men  of Letters bunker. It had been seven years since and in that time different levels of powers had passed through but never had they congregated the way that they were doing so now and Nature knew it was time. 

She was thinking about it when He had come. She shied away from the darkness in his gaze, the once white ethereal beauty that had almost been too pure for this world that had seen so much shed of blood, spilled over from many  self-appointed men who had the audacity to consider themselves Righteous (as though there could ever be more than one) through various  wars and battles that humans deemed important- that gaze was no longer there. Now it was sharp, all seeing, and cutting. It looked towards the forest, as though sensing Nature’s eyes and narrowed its vessels eyes. 

_ Remember your place!  _ He shouted, grabbing hold of Nature and yanking Her proverbial hair. She wanted to fight back, give Him a taste of His own medicine, teach Him a little of what She had learned over the years but if there was  anything She’d learned from her humans it had been to bide her time.  So, she gave in and let Him pull her around, feeling as some things she’d been shielding from the humans got loose and She’d cried for the lives She knew would be lost and He left her alone then ignorantly assuming She’d been put in her place successfully. Foolish. 

For a long  time, She wept hoping her tears would cleanse Her earth of the disease that had just been set loose. But it was too late. She watched it travel from Asia to Seattle and then spread like a bad rash all over the world, starting with Italy, until it eventually spread throughout the piece of land Sam and Dean Winchester were on. She cried every time another soul was lost and her blades of grass would move gently trying to bring her comfort but it didn’t work. She knew then that the final battle was upon them now. And She slowly straightened before She started to gather her forces. 

**_ from whence does your strength come _ ** _?  _ _ It had asked Her once. It used to  _ _ attempt _ _ to lure Her into Its world but it was a temptation She resisted easily, time and time again. And It didn’t understand Her reticence, didn’t understood how She even had the ability to refuse It. _

_ She could see into it. To go in was to die for all eternity. There was no sun, no life, nothing but black as far as the eye could see. All Her creatures would perish. No more laughter, no more sunny smiles, no more care and tenderness for Her flowers, bee hives; other less sentient creatures. No more barbecues, fireworks thrown up into the expanse-ness of Her skies, no more _ __ _ love _ _.  _

**_ humanity _ ** _ ,  _ _ S _ _ he’d _ _ responded, meekly and somehow afraid that now that It knew Her secret It would know how to best destroy Her. Instead It had stopped and stared.  _ **_ Humanity? What about  _ ** **_ Him _ ** **_? _ **

**_ I came into existence when He created me but from  _ ** **_ there, _ ** **_ I owe Him no fealty. When He created me, He breathed life into me. My life is my own. I will worship Him in thanks when He deserves it just as I would anything else.  _ ** _ She’d explained, a little more at ease.  _ **_ Why? Why do you ask, oh tenebrous one? _ **

**_ No reason. Just continue to care for them as you have been. I won’t be around for a while _ ** _.  _ _ It had told her, the inky depth seemingly turning into liquid as it dissipated in front of Her. _

**_ Wait!  _ ** _ She’d called out on instinct, unsure as to why She’d even care,  _ **_ you _ ** **_ will be ok? _ **

_ She’d gotten no response as the black faded away but all the same,  _ _ She _ _ understood the nod She felt pushed at Her.  _

Over time She’d almost forgotten It but now, in sight of the battle, She knew who Her best ally would be. 

But first, She needed to talk to Sam.


	24. Ella Wheeler Wilcox

_there's no chance, no destiny, no fate, that can circumvent or hinder or control the firm resolve of a determined soul_

A couple of days later finds everyone mingling about and waiting on Dean’s burgers to be ready. Self-proclaimed to be  mouthwatering , the rest of them would tease him, but the delicious smells that permeate the bunker prohibits them from doing so since Dean had promised retribution in the form of withholding said burgers from anyone who dared claim otherwise. 

Needless to say, everyone had clammed up. 

Adam is able to swipe the first two for him and Michael and he takes it over to his archangel, walking slowly so that he can drink in Michael’s ethereal beauty. He remembers the cage with Michael. He remembers how in the beginning Michael wouldn’t talk to him. Adam’s never confirmed but he reasons it’s probably because he reminded Michael of his brothers and their  involvement in the complete and total collapse of that first Apocalypse. 

He remembers that Michael just left him to his own devices, awake but invisible. In hindsight, Adam realizes that even when he didn’t particularly care, Michael hid him from Lucifer. Protected him as reluctant as it may have been. Adam’s grateful for it. Had he been  tortured; he may have very well been singing a different tune. They wouldn’t be where they are. He tries not to think about that possibility and steers his thoughts away from what could have been even now. 

In the end, what had been a turning point for them had been Michael shivering. Adam had crept a little closer, instinctively trying to lend his body warmth by close proximity when he’d seen Michael marginally relax. 

“You ok?” He’d whispered, one eye on Lucifer, lest he turn his attention to them. 

**_ You’re warm.  _ ** Michael had told him. Adam had squeaked in surprise, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth so as to keep the sound in because he hadn’t heard that verbally, it had come from directly inside his  _ brain.  _

He saw Lucifer still and his mind spun to quickly catch up. He’d exhaled his slowest breath ever before tentatively reaching out to Michael. 

_ Can you hear me? _

**_ Indeed. _ **

_ Is this safer? _

**_ Very much so.  _ **

_ Ok. Why are you shivering? Are you cold? _

**_ Obviously. The Cage is leeching out my warmth.  _ **

_ But I help? _

Michael had scowled at him then, his displeasure coming through loud in clear through the bond that tied them together when Adam had said yes. Michael did not like appearing weak. But right then, with no obvious way out, he had been forced to heel to the human. 

**_ You’ve a soul. You’re permanently warm.  _ **

_ Does that mean that the closer I am to you, the more it’ll help? _

Michael’s- well, his, really- jaw had ticked but he’d given him a short nod.

Adam had  scootched closer and the two sat in silence for a while. Might have been a minute, might have been a week. Maybe a month. 

Regardless, one day Adam had felt something and when he turned it was Michael,  peeking at him. Adam had turned back, ready to go back to ignoring him. He may not want him to suffer but he wasn’t going to forgive the lying bastard who had promised him his  _ mom.  _

And yet, something stopped him. Something his mom had told him time and time again, growing up. 

_ Be kind. Everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about.  _

He’d almost scoffed. What battle could an archangel be fighting? 

_ Aside from being stuck in a cage for the indeterminable future and being perpetually cold?  _ A voice that sounded a whole lot like his mom asked him. 

He’d frowned at the voice, willing it to go away, but it stayed and he could practically see his mom’s pointed look. That’s what ultimately made his mind up for him and he’d begun the first of many conversations with the gigantic hulk that was currently sulking next to him. 

_ Michael _

**_ Yes, Adam? _ **

_ There’s a table with four legs. At the table sits one grandmother, two mothers, two daughters, and one granddaughter. How many legs are under the table? _

_ _ _

Adam is brought back to the present by the sound of a chair scraping on the floor and he flinches because it sounds like when Lucifer used to scrape his talons along the wall of the Cage. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Sam jump and his heart goes out to his brother who had to endure whatever happened when Lucifer got bored. Or angry. Or crazy. 

He looks at Michael, who’s watching him intently, a worried look on his face and it dawns on Adam that Michael is worried that he might, at some point, get upset that he didn’t protect his brother. He won’t.  _ Now,  _ Sam is well under Michael’s protection, but back then Sam had been the reason Michael wasn’t able to fight Lucifer. He wasn’t going to protect him from a damn thing. Adam understood. It had been torture, yes, but you can’t care about what you can’t care about and even though he might have been raised differently, Michael hadn’t. He’d had Chuck for a dad, for  _ someone’s  _ sake. Before  Adam, he’d known nothing about forgiveness or humanity. 

The again, Adam hadn’t done anything either. Hadn’t even tried. He’d simply taken the protection Michael had freely given and hidden behind his façade of insanity. That had been what Adam apologized to Sam for the first day that his harsh words had made Dean stalk out of the room and had left Adam to face the full force of his puppy dog eyes. Adam had meant everything he said so he wasn’t going to apologize for it. Even with the severity of his words. With Dean, they were a necessary evil as life had taught him to show no mercy for anything weaker. Adam had had to be a bull dog. 

And if he’d apologized to the spirit of his mom later, quietly crying into Michael’s neck, well no one else knew besides them. 

Either way, the next day Sam had dropped off all the full series of the Winchester Gospels, hesitantly stating that neither him nor Dean were especially good with words but that these books said everything they couldn’t. Adam had nodded. Having cooled off and back to being someone his mom could be proud of he took the olive branch he’d recognized being extended. 

Over the next few  days, he’d read them and they had definitely helped. Even Michael had been astonished at the sheer determination, will, and tenacity that his brothers had when it came to facing things much  much stronger than they were. 

They laughed at some parts, like Dean being afraid of getting on plane or Dean saying that demons were above their paygrade, and had sat back in stunned silence when Sam died the first time. They could  _ feel  _ Dean’s grief. Just like they felt Sam’s when Dean was in a coma and how he’d been sad that his dad died but relieved that it hadn’t been Dean. They saw the  brothers fates entwine with one another twisting and curving until you couldn’t tell where one began and the other ended. They laughed at the shit Gabriel had pulled at Crawford Hall, read on in disbelief at the subsequent events at Broward County, and cried when Dean figures  out he must be one of those  _ dicks with wings.  _ That time it’s Michael who sobs into Adam’s neck. 

And yes, when Dean finds out his little brother,  _ him, Adam,  _ and his mom were killed by ghouls, Adam is able to see that their senseless deaths are one more thing that Dean  continuously carried with him. 

“Surely he must know it really wasn’t his fault?” Adam whispers to Michael, “It was technically yours.” There’s no heat in his voice. He loves Michael but even he can see the manipulation that he had a hand in. Michael, Raphael,  _ Lucifer.  _ It’s  unbelievable to read through the books and see, first hand, how time and time again, it’s Gabriel who champions for Earth. Gabriel, who wants nothing to do with fighting, heaven’s smallest archangel, the  _ Messenger _ , is the only one who, even though he goes about it in the worst possible ways, tried to help. 

The night that they read about Gabriel dying by Lucifer’s hand is the night that they both cried. 

__

Adam glances around, looking for said archangel as he hands Michael his plate and takes a bite out of his burger. He moans loudly at the cheesy goodness.  _ Do you remember the burger I had at the place? _

Michael nods. 

_ This burger far  _ _ supersedes _ _ that one.  _

Dean pokes his head around the corner and grins at Adam. “That’s what I like to hear.” 

Adam laughs around his burger and feels Michael looking at him. 

**_ You’ve forgiven him then? _ **

Adam takes another bite and chews slowly, thinking. On one hand, he lost ten years of his life, his  livelihood , he’s technically dead and his mom is gone. And, although he may not look it, he definitely  _ feels  _ every bit the 1200+ years old that he is. On the other hand, his brother’s life sucks, has always sucked and probably, unless they manage to defeat Chuck, will always suck, with only pieces of  forcefully snatched happiness here and there. That, alone, is almost enough to have him forgive Dean for forgetting him but what really cinches it is Michael.

Michael, he thinks, makes up for a lot. Would he give up everything and not have Michael? He quickly ascertains that the person in question is really just his mom. Would he give up his mom for Michael. He shifts uncomfortably. He loves his mom. Still. Even now, with the burden of his millennia plus years on top of him, he can clearly remember her. There’s a lump in his throat and before he can think about  it he’s up and headed to the kitchen. 

“Out.” He announces and something must show on his face because everyone scrams including Dean but Adam’s outstretched arm stops him short. “You stay.”

Adam’s eyes fill with tears and Dean’s face shifts from worried to  _ worried.  _ Adam can feel Michael right outside the kitchen and he sends him a quick thought that he’s fine and Dean’s fine but to please let him have this, he has to know. 

“My mom.” He chokes out, unable to continue. “My mom- your mom. If you could have your mom back, as you remember her, but lose everything else, the close relationship you have with Sam, Cas, the rest of your family that’s here, would you do it?”

He doesn’t bother wiping away the tears that have escaped and they smear on Dean’s shirt when he’s pulled in to a hug. 

“I got to see, once.” Dean tells him. “All the people that Sam and I have saved would have died. In the end, my mom and John made their own choices. We just happened to be the ones who paid for them. Your mom was a true innocent, she didn’t sell her soul for the life of my worthless dad so I can’t answer that for you, little brother. The only thing I can tell you is that what-ifs won’t help you in this life. I’m not just saying that because I want you to harden up like me, because I like the way that you are. You’ve got an archangel riding your ass, hell, you’ve got  _ the  _ archangel riding your ass and you’re still as cool as a cucumber, you know? But what I’m trying to say is that there’s no use in pondering what you’d chose if you could go back if that’s not even an option. Take the fact that the option was taken away with a grain of salt and enjoy the life you’re getting to have now. And for the record,” Dean says, finally letting go and stepping back to look at him, “your mom sounds awesome and if she’s as great as you say she was, what do you suppose is the likelihood that she’d want you to give up your happiness for her?” 

__

When Adam steps back out of the kitchen, he feels lighter and he smiles at Michael who’s waiting anxiously by the door. 

“Yeah, I think I have.” He tells him, grabbing a hold of his hand and steering them back to where their burgers now lie cold. Michael will warm it back up for him, he has no doubt. 

“After all, if I didn’t it would mean that I also regret you and never, _ol_ _monons_ _._ Never.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually have the next three chapters of this planned out. Who am I when I'm not looking? 😳


	25. Julia Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> feels are easy but plot is hard. bear with me and thank you for your patience.

_when it comes to life, we spin our own yarn. and where we end up is really in fact where we always intended to be_

Three days later there’s blast that shakes the walls of the bunker and has every non-human throwing up shields so that the human inhabitants don’t have their eyes burnt out. 

Cas has come unto his own. 

And he is majestic. 

When Dean reopens his eyes, there’s a shadow behind Cas that is  _ nothing  _ like the one before. This one so much bigger and instead of one set of wings there are three. Cas’s eyes shine a brilliant blue and the whole room has the feel of something  otherworldly and powerful. The hairs on Dean’s neck and arms (and legs) stand on end and it feels like he’s been playing with a live wire. He suddenly feels very small, very  minuscule , very insignificant in the face of everything that Cas now is. 

In order to make Cas an archangel, he had to be infused with the same primordial substance that his brothers were made of. In the beginning only Michael was going to “donate” but when he’d explained it to them, Gabriel had quickly offered up some grace of his own- something that Dean found extremely admirable considering how hard it had been for him to bounce back from the atrocities that Asmodouche impacted on him- siting that if “Cassie” was going to be influenced by said grace, then he wanted himself to be mixed in too, “to make it fair”. 

Dean had almost protested but Sam had shaken his head at him with a look on his face that instructed that Dean look deeper. He understood once he did. Gabriel was concerned that he’d once again end up the odd ball out if he had two quiet studious brothers again. 

“Couldn’t do it without ya, Gabe. Besides Cas could use a little pagan inside him. Might make him less fearful of strip clubs.” He’d quipped. The relief and not quite hidden traces of gratitude that had fleetingly passed through Gabriel’s eyes made Dean glad he’d agreed. 

“The pagan part will be small. Really small.” Gabriel promised. He sounded apologetic and Dean shook his head. 

“There’s nothing wrong with it. Being well-rounded makes the world go ‘round, after all.”

“ Thanks Deano.” Gabe had responded, looking a little shy. 

“Right then,” Dean clapped his hands, “ lets get this show on the road.”

Once the whole ritual was done, Michael and Adam had taken turns explaining how the grace worked like an organ transplant. It could be rejected but the possibility was small and when Dean had expressed concern over Cas burning out for using grace that wasn’t his, Michael explained that only happened from angel to angel, as a defense mechanism. It didn’t happen from archangel to angel. In fact, the only way it could get rejected was if Cas ended up rejecting it. 

Other than that, the way it worked was both easy to understand and at the same time the most complicated thing Dean had ever heard. Even Sam had looked a little confused and he was the smartest person Dean knew. Basically, it was a small ball of  majic (made of nothing but Michael and Gabriel’s graces) that was then carefully implanted in Cas. It was a slow process because they had to allow his grace time to adjust to it so that he wouldn’t go all ‘ splodey . Once that was done, it did its own thing, contorting and weaving itself throughout Cas’s grace until it had fully mesh and molded. Until there weren’t any traces left of anyone else and it was unequivocally all Cas. 

The difficult to understand part was that even though it became Cas’s grace it still carried data from the original donors. It worked like DNA strands, Adam had explained, the grace equivalents of chromosomes and the like changing and as Cas’s grace accepted it, it was what slightly altered him as well. 

But now, here he was. Broad and majestic. He was  _ Castiel,  _ Angel of Thursday and Archangel of Humanity. He was a little Michael, Gabriel, a little pagan and even a little Adam (because of them being bonded). 

But more than all of those he was still himself. 

And he was Dean’s  _ forever.  _

Dean swallowed hard. What if Cas changed his mind about him? What if he realized Dean wasn’t shit? What if he decided that Dean was and had never actually been worth saving? What if-

Dean almost fell back as he jumped when someone appeared directly in front of him. He feels hands around his waist and when he opens his eyes, he is nose to nose with someone. Someone with incredible blue eyes.

“Everything I have ever done has been for the love of you. How dare you even think about questioning it?” 

Dean sucks in air. Cas’s voice resonates as a deeper octave and standing as close as they are, he feels it vibrate within him. 

It settles him. He looks back into Cas’s eyes and it’s  _ Cas  _ again. His Cas. The one who first confessed to feeling doubt. The one who defied Zachariah, Michael, and heaven for him. The one who carved an angel banishing symbol into himself. Who beat some bloody sense into  him. Who followed him into world’s unknown and saved him from killing Sammy when he was a  demon. Who left Dean alone in Purgatory to protect him. It’s  _ Cas.  _ Cas who now wears his shirts and his lounge pants, who likes coffee but not much else aside from the  occasional burrito or cheeseburger. It’s Cas, who always picks up when Dean calls, who answers his crummy prayers, and who  _ loves him.  _

Dean takes a deep breath and looks at Cas...and smirks. 

“Hey Sunshine. You’re looking like the world’s best guardian angel over there.”

Before Cas can say anything back, Dean raps his knuckles along his neck and to his jaw, using it as a guide to push his head up just enough so that Dean can maintain eye contact while he gets so close to  Cas, he almost drowns in the blue. Deciding that’s the way he wants to  go; Dean lets himself fall completely and kisses his angel. 

_ - _

There were a couple of things that changed in Cas that were noticeable almost immediately. For one, he stood up straighter, looked a little surer of himself; that was something Dean would forever be grateful to Michael for. When he’d curiously asked Gabriel if that came from his cockiness, Gabe had laughed and shook his head. “Hell no. Mine is all bravado, I’m not actually brave, you know that, Deano.” Dean had frowned, not liking the way his friend (and yes, Gabriel was definitely his friend, he’d come to realize) was talking about himself but before he could address it, Gabe had moved on. “Michael isn’t bravado. He’s the real thing. It’s a confidence that comes from being the first born, from being the best warrior across our galaxy, from being  _ him.  _ If Cassie got even a little bit of that, it’ll do him a world of good- although I am inclined to tell you that he’s probably going to call you on your shit a little more forcefully that he would have before.”

“That will probably be good for me.” He’d admitted quietly to Gabriel. 

Later that day, Gabriel had played a trick on Balthazar, a dumb little prank where confetti fell on him with a loud boom (only  Balthy could hear that- the humans only knew because they’d looked confused at how high he’d jumped when he heard it and Gabriel had whispered it to them) every time he crossed a doorway. 

Anyway, Cas had outright laughed when he saw Balthazar try to run through a doorway in an effort to not disengage the confetti aspect of the whole thing. 

“It’s in his wings.” He’d chortled. 

Dean had laughed because he looked so beautiful, all bright eyes and a wide grin, when Gabriel had sidled up to him. 

“ _ That’s  _ me.” 

Dean had looked down at him before ruffling his hair.

“I love it. Thank you.”

Sam, who’d been nearby had smiled at them both, before turning back to watch Cas...as almost everyone else was. After Dean and he had made their way to the bat-cave, most everyone had cheered. Even Crowley’s acerbic ass had hidden his smile behind his whiskey (which was  _ awesome,  _ by the way). 

Cas stumbled  occasionally , still unaccustomed to the extra pairs of wings but Gabriel assured him he was getting the hang of them quite quickly and that he was doing great. 

“I think most of your gifts will probably manifest themselves shortly.” Billie had told them, “They’ll be geared toward whatever will be most helpful to the world because of his title. Even though, as a whole, Earth was created to be self-sustaining, it can’t always keep up with human demands. Excessive manufacturing, over population, wars, and  occurrences like  Chernobyl , have decimated some aspects of Earth and in others, rendered it  completely unhabitable. All of these things affect humans so essentially Cas will be Earth’s  right-hand man.”

Here Billie, closed her eyes and in the next second everyone currently a tenant in the bunker was seated around them. Crowley rolled his eyes. 

“Amara and I have had conversations with several, if not all of you. To do a quick recap,  Castiel’s main power will be with the Earth as a whole. To an archangel of humanity, there will be nothing more important than where they live. Combining that with Amara’s knowledge that Chuck cannot currently leave this dimension, Michael’s know-how on how to trap him, and Gabriel’s idea that we do so in Pangea, I feel pretty certain that Cas here will be able to work his magic and make it surface. Charlie and Ash would be responsible for creating a program that wards it against other magic- hunters, other chapters of the Men of Letters, witches, etc. Something  impenetrable . Kevin will help them with that. Keep in mind that the wards also have to keep it off the  human's radar, it’ll be tricky because, again, we can’t just put it in a pop dimension. It has to be real.”

“Essentially, you’re saying Cas will be making the Earth bigger but we’re supposed to figure out how to keep that fact a secret?” Sam clarified.

“Yes.”

“Alright”, said Dean, “Let’s get to work.”

Dean turned to see Sam pinching his nose.

“What?”

“What do you mean, what? What are we all supposed to  _ do?”  _

Dean looked around, seeing for the first time how most of them looked a little confused as to how this was supposed to be a solution. 

Oh. 

He looked at Billie but she just gave him her special Billie smile and Amara’s face gave nothing away. 

Bobby nodded at him, Cas smiled, and Crowley winked. Meg just rocked back on her heels. 

Right then. 

“Well, we obviously need... teams”, he said, slowly, gaining traction as the plan formed itself in his mind.

His mind raced as it created a to-do list and started checking things off. 

“Teams?” Gabriel, prodded gently, bringing him back to the bunker. 

“Um, yes. Teams. For example, Billie just mentioned the tech team. Sam will be in charge of the research team. Your team,”  he addressed his brother, “will be the most important team. You will need to figure out what wards are going to be the most effective to not only withstand everything that Chuck will be throwing at it but everything else that Billie mentioned and most important withstand the passage of time. They need to either auto recharge or we need to figure out a way to let future hunters what they need to do. Huh. I think I just realized why Men of Letters are actually important.” He trailed off before coming back.

“Cas, will you snap me up multiple white boards?” 

“I. .. don’t know what a whiteboard is, Dean.”

“Someone  help .” Dean said, distractedly.

Adam snapped and Dean picked up black marker, nodding at Charlie and Sam to move and start writing down the members of their teams. 

On his own, he wrote down **Battle** **Plans** and put himself down along with the best tactician he knew, Cas. He glanced at Michael before putting his name down and then adding Balthazar since he knew he’d been in Cas’s garrison. He also put Claire down, knowing he was risking Jody’s wrath but knowing Claire wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

He turned to Adam. 

“Our group or do you want to be in the Healer’s group?”

“There’s going to be a Healer’s group?” 

“Yep. If you want it, you can head it up.”

“Who else does Healing besides me?”

“Alex. She’s a nurse.”

And  so it went, Dean got Meg after she’d walked over, done some sort of shrug in response to his cocked eyebrow and said she’d had fun taking Dick down, Adam got Jack, Sam got Bobby. Dean got Crowley, because he was a wily son of a bitch, Charlie took  Samandriel who she seemed to have taken under her wing (har har) and Missouri took Kaia. When Dean had looked at her in  askance, she told him to mind his business; that she was working on her own thing. Dean glanced at Ellen who was standing next to her and knew better than to argue. He’d smiled instead. He wondered why Amara had thought that Mary would be the best choice to bring back when between Ellen, Missouri, and Jody he’d known what real caring felt like. Maybe he’d just needed to find that out for himself. 

He shook himself out of his dark thoughts as Benny clapped a hand on his shoulder, a quiet  murmur of “tell me what to do, boss”. He didn’t really want Benny on his team, Benny was a chef, not a fighter but he couldn’t deny the fact that it would be fun to hang out with his friend again so he kept him although he did mention that he expected to chow down on some good  Cajun food and soon. After Sam’s not so subtle prodding, Dean sighed and asked Gadreel to come over. If nothing else, he was good at following orders. As long as he didn’t switch teams as he was prone to do and sell them out to, oh, say,  _ Chuck.  _ Really, he was trying not to glare. 

Finally, all the teams were done and Dean looked around to see that everyone had joined their respective groups. There were a few that were just fighters, soldiers, like Ellen or Gabriel, who would spend some time doing other things or helping out the different teams in small tasks but mostly they were just waiting to be told it was go time (or in Gabriel’s case, playing pranks on people although Dean had no doubt that Ellen could keep him in line). And then there were the  _ Beings,  _ like Billie, the Reapers, Amara, who Dean didn’t actually know what to do with so he just looked at them while he scratched his eyebrow. 

“I, uh, you...” He trailed off, mind racing to come up with something so they wouldn’t feel left out. Dean knew how that felt. It wasn’t pleasant. 

“Oh!” He snapped his fingers. “You two. How about upping the warding on this place and creating some fun stuff that we can pop into like, I don’t know, bowling lanes or something we can play tonight and you two don’t have to be hyper focused on the warding the whole time?”

Billie just looked at him- she knew exactly what he was doing but he couldn’t tell whether she was amused or not. He figured he’d find out if she ended up doing it. 

Amara, though, Amara frowned. “Why am I getting bombarded with memories of balls and shoes and the overwhelming sensation that is smelled unpleasant? I could create a spa and have everyone get massages.”

“Bowling it is.” Billie replied promptly, making most of them laughed. 

Dean smiled to himself. He couldn’t wait to have those two (and Crowley) around Rowena again


	26. William Wordsworth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay. Creative juices had dried up. I was able to push fwd through them just now. I hope this chapter is everything you want it to be.

_what though the radiance that was once so bright, be now forever taken from my sight. though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower; we will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind_

It took Her a full day to create herself a form. She finally settled on one that was as bountiful as She was in Earth form, full pink lips, that reminded her of her peonies, an hourglass figure because it reminded her of time and how short or long it could feel, dark brown thick hair that reminded Her of Her trees bark, with green eyes of course. 

She dressed Herself in a blue sheath to represent Her sky and left Her feet bare. 

She left Her power where it belonged so that _He_ wouldn’t get tipped off and stood. In the day that it had taken Her she’d also armed Herself in all the knowledge found in Her world. She decided she was ready. 

Stepping forth, She stumbled for just a second, Her Earth coming up quickly to brace Her. 

_Now, now,_ She chided gently, _it will all be ok. Be calm._

After a couple of minutes, She stepped out, wriggling Her new toes into Her Earth and blades of grass. 

It separated itself to make a way for Her and She gingerly made Her way to the Winchester Estate, feeling the Earth firm beneath Her feet. 

Was it blasphemous to praise Herself? To desire that She’d done this before so that She could give it the accolades it deserved. It was beautiful, _She_ was beautiful. Life aplenty and so _so_ abundant. 

Deep in thought and completely tuned in to her new senses, She almost bypassed the door completely. 

Making Her way down the short steps of stairs She raises Her hand and knocks before waiting patiently, Her hand making its way to a strand of hair and weaving Her fingers through it. It feels beautiful and healthy. She sighs happily as She hears footsteps She recognizes as the elder brother’s. 

“Who is it?” She hears his gruff voice call out. 

She cocks Her head as She realizes that She has not come up with a name. 

“It is I.” She said, finally, knowing that Dean will never accept that as an answer. 

“Chuck?” 

“No. I am…Terra.” She settles on finally. Italy is beautiful this time of the year. 

“Who?” 

“Terra. Dean, if you’ll let me in, I can explain.” 

“How do you know my name?” 

She smiled. “I know all of my inhabitant's names, past and present.” 

She heard something that sounded like “creepy” before, “Dean, just open it. It’s not Chuck and we’re all here.” 

“Hi, Sam.” She called, recognizing him immediately. 

“Do I… know you?” 

She nodded even though aware He could not see Her. 

“As you do me. You use me to run on. I have known you for seven of your years.” 

The door is opened then and although no one is there, She steps in. The door closes behind Her. 

She looks down, hears Dean mutter an indignant _hey_ and then sees Michael, the First Born pull a long sword out of one of Her many spaces and kneel. 

There’s a gasp and slowly as She turns Her head to look around She sees others follow in his steps and kneel. 

“Gadreel.” She says warmly, recognizing his grace. “You took such extraordinary care of me.” 

“Balthazar, I mourned your first death, my friend.” 

“Samandriel.” She nods gently. “You have such beautiful grace.” 

There are others that She greets, Death, Amara, Gabriel and the ever rascally one, Castiel. 

“Castiel. You are the new Archangel of Humanity, your Father’s greatest creation. I have learned so much from them. Thank you for protecting my heroes. I suspect you and I are going to become very good friends.” 

“Who are you?” Dean asks again but before She can answer, Sam does. 

“It’s literally Earth, Dean. Like..like, Gaia or something.” 

She nods. “I have been called many names but this is the first time I’ve taken a form.” 

“Terra. Italian?” Dean asks. 

“Yes, dear.” 

She steps down each step, coming to stand before Michael and placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“You owe me nothing. Please rise.” 

He stands shakily, unwilling to meet Her eyes so She turns his head to hers. 

“Do not fret. I implore you.” 

“But I-" 

“But nothing.” She says firmly. “That was _His_ fault, not yours. The buck, as they say, stops here.” 

“Why are you here?” Amara asks and she seems shy too, remembering how many times she’s attempted to decimate Her. 

“I will not die. And if I do, it will certainly not be because I did nothing. I have seen so much, experienced even more, felt everything and I’ve waited. Heard the whispers through the eons and it feels like this is the moment I’ve been waiting for.” 

“This is the moment?” Dean asks, incredulous. “What about all the other times? What about when-" 

“Dean. All those other times it was people that were dying and although I mourned for them, I had already heard of rumours of something worse. Being a form is something that takes a tremendous amount of power. I will only ever be able to do this once. I can feel it. Those other times I wasn’t at risk, but this time I am. Surely you understand why I cannot die?” 

He glares for a moment but ultimately nods his acquiescence and comprehension. He didn’t like it of course, but not understanding wasn’t something beyond his capabilities. 

“How can you help us then?” He asked. 

She laughs softly, the sound, clean and pure, reminiscent of the cleanest of river waters, tinkling throughout the bunker, like a wind chime. 

“I am, of course, all the elements but more than I have, well, to you, they’ll be weapons, but to me, they are special pieces that Gadreel helped me amass.” 

She smiles at Gadreel then, enjoying the rosy hue that his grace and face take on. 

“This is fucking crazy.” She hears Dean mutter, most likely to himself but She still turns to him. 

“Why? Did you really think I would just roll over and allow myself to be obliterated?” 

He throws his hands out and opens his mouth but then shut it and eyes Her suspiciously. 

“Wait a minute. If you are who you say you are then where are the other Earth’s, Gaia’s, whatever? Why didn’t they do anything?” 

She shakes Her head. She’s wondered the same thing Herself, She really can’t imagine just rolling over. “To be frank, I don’t know. I can’t imagine- I really do not know. I know only that I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t not do something. I am important to me. Everyone who has ever lived or perished has been acknowledged by me.” 

“I have so many questions.” It escapes Sam’s mouth before he can stop himself and he can feel Dean’s eyes on him before he even speaks up. 

“Of course you do. You giant nerd. The real question is do you have any questions that are relevant to our current situation?” 

Sam feels himself turn red- “Um, maybe?” 

Dean shakes his head and crosses his arms. “Fine, go ahead.” 

Sam shakes his shoulders loose and straightens his shirt before turning to look at Her. 

“If you know everyone, does that mean you also know their lives? Or is more like you’re simply aware of their existence?” 

“Both and neither. If they die of a natural cause, then I know what’s happening while it’s happening. If they die of something man-made, like murder, then I know only once they’ve passed.” 

“How do monsters fit into that equation?” Dean seems surprised that he had a question but then he continues, “they’re both dead but alive. Like Benny.” 

“Yes. I am aware of every single predator that exists.” 

“And you just leave them?” He asks, exasperated but not really angry. 

She gives him a look before She explains. “Did you know that tigers have prints of eyes on the back of their ears?” At the shake of his head She continues, “it’s a survival mechanism. So that the tiger’s predator can think that the tiger is watching. Now what do you surmise from that?” 

Dean thinks for a moment. “That as terrifying as a tiger is, I’d never want to be anywhere near whatever thinks of a tiger as prey.” 

She laughs and nods, giving the universal so-so hand gesture. “Close. It’s to show that everything has a predator, Dean. There’s always something stronger, something to outrun. Darwin wasn’t completely wrong, it is something of a survival of the fittest out there but it kinda has to be. As much as I can feel your pain when someone you love moves on, the space, for lack of a better word is needed. I am almost at capacity.” 

“What about illnesses?” Sam interjects, glaring at Dean for usurping his question time. Dean rolls his eyes. “Are those natural causes?” 

She can’t help but glance down, She still feels sorrow at the last thing released. “Sometimes.” She says softly. Her eyes fill with tears and She’s surprised. She didn’t think She’d made tear ducts but apparently She’d done a better job than She’d deemed Herself capable. 

“Like what?” Dean asks. 

“ _Dean!”_ Sam hisses. 

“What? I’m curious too.” Dean responds unapologetically. “You were going to ask anyway. Don’t be a bitter bitch just cos I beat you.” 

“Jerk.” Sam mutters. 

She can’t help but let out a small giggle before answering. 

“Some things, albeit originally natural, are not my fault. Like cigarettes, or rather the cancer they can cause. They are made of tobacco leaves, yes, but that situation is akin to humans ingesting belladonna on purposes. It’s natural but it’s not good for humans. But other things, like the Coronavirus, are completely natural. I tried to hold that one off until I couldn’t but He got angry and released it.” 

“Seriously?!” Dean exclaims angrily. “Chuck is responsible for Covid?” 

She nods. 

“Dammit! I hate having to wear masks.” 

“Calm down, ya idjit.” Someone interjects. She turns to see Bobby, standing there, cap in hand. She smiles and he blushes, giving her a slight bow. Her eyes flit over to Crowley as the former King of Hell grumbles at their interaction, minute as it was. 

He may have had such a title but he still managed to find favour in Her eyes because he rooted for Her the entire time. Granted it wasn’t because he was so altruistic. Still. She winks at him before turning to Death. 

“I have plans to request Its presence.” She tells Billie succinct but still in a way that passes as breviloquent. 

Billie’s response is immediate. “No!” 

“Yes.” 

“No.” 

“Yes.” 

“No!” Billie taps and the bunker shakes. 

“Yes.” She calls on a tiny bit of Her power and the ground below them trembles. 

Billie crosses her arms. “Fine.” 

“As interesting as that was, will one of you explain what the hell that was?” 

“Terra simply spun Earth on its axis. Just barely. Hardly noticeable.” Cas explains. 

“Oh, right. Yeah, practically nothing. I’m sure researchers and scientists all over the world aren’t freaking out right now.” Dean responds, running a tired hand over his face. 

“It really is nothing.” She assures him, calmly. “What can they do? Besides carve more out of me to study? Besides this way in a few thousand years they’ll be another beautiful waterfall. Possibly more noteworthy than Niagra Falls. If we make it that long, that is.” 

Dean stares at her. “I can’t decide whether I'm bummed that I won’t see it or happy that I won’t be alive anymore.” 

She smiles. She knows how to keep secrets after all. 

“Anyway, who are you planning to call on?” 

“I don’t know any other name for it beyond It. I know only that it’s dark and all consuming. The lack of light that inhabits it is like nothing found on Earth, or me, I should say.” 

“Wait, The Empty?” 

“The Shadow?” 

Dean, Cas and Gabriel speak up all at once but only Gabriel is grinning. 

“You can’t do that.” Dean insists. 

“Of course I can. We’re old friends and we both want the same thing.” 

“Yes!” Gabriel calls out. “I love that guy.” he says, grinning brightly at everyone. 

“Of course you do.” Gabriel stares at Samandriel who looks shocked that he said that out loud. “I mean, I mean-” He stammers, quickly trying to backtrack. But Gabriel just laughs and ruffles his hair. “Don’t worry about it kid. In fact, do that more often.” 

Samandriel just continues to stare at Gabriel until Balthazar snaps his fingers in his face and tells him, “He’s always been like that.” 

“I never got to meet him.” Samandriel explains. 

Balthazar shakes his head. “Well, you’re getting to meet him now. He’s the best of all the big brothers. Always has been, always will be.” He says, looking at Michael evenly. 

“We seriously need less testosterone in here.” Sam pipes up. 

“Multi-dimensional waves of celestial intent.” Michael reminds him. 

“Fine. We need less of that and more estrogen.” Sam argues, looking around and seeing that there are basically only a handful of people there with actual estrogen. Billie and Amara didn’t even count. 

He opened his mouth to say so when he heard Missouri shout. 

“Brace yourselves!” 

The bunker shook, harder than it had before and Sam and Dean saw as the symbols of protection started being worn down when Amara said, “Oh no you don’t, little brother.” and raised her hands, Billie following suit. 

“What are you doing?!” Dean shouted when their arms came back down as quickly as they’d gone up. 

But before they could answer, Dean heard a blood curdling scream and a **_Dean!!!_ ** And felt the blood drain from his face. _Claire._

“That’s why.” Amara explained looking around for a way to help without having to step foot outside. But it was a moot point because Sam and Dean were already tearing up the stairs, Cas right behind them before growling and catapulting himself in front of them. 

“Move Cas!” Dean shouted. 

“No!” Cas shouted back. “You stay there, Dean. He’ll kill you.” 

Dean didn’t stop. “He’ll kill you! Please Cas. I can’t- I can’t lose you.” 

“No one is losing anyone.” Gabriel said appearing next to him, Michael and Adam on the other side. 

“Not today, not ever.” 

Dean looked at his family and nodded his head. _I love you all_ he thought at them. 

Then he opened the door. 


	27. Thomas Merton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> short but I thought it was time to shine a little light on them.   
> I like the chapter but being ridden with extremely low self esteem, I keep thinking about how authors I enjoy would have had the capability to better write the spirit I'm trying to capture here.   
> in case it's not abundantly clear, they're both uncertain- even if they are extremely strong beings-but they are slowly realizing that maybe together they'll have double the strength and maybe together they don't have to be alone. and yes, I'm aware of how "if there's a lock, there has to be a key" that sounds.

_love is our true destiny. we do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone. we find it with another._

_ Two hours before: _

“You really think this is going to work?”

Billie leaned against the wall of their bedroom pondering Amara’s question carefully.  Finally, she regarded her. “I have no choice but to believe.” She responded. 

Amara looked at her and shook her head  ruefully . “Just seems bloody crazy to be relying on the strength of humans to beat my brother. To beat God. I mean the odds...” She trailed off, not finishing the sentence but leaving the intent. 

Billie went to her and grasped her hand. “I know they’re human, Mara, but you’re forgetting what else they are. You’re forgetting the most important part.”

Amara just stares at her. She’s gotten better at dealing with humans, she thinks. She regards them infinitely higher than she ever has before and her  _ brother,  _ their massages...absolutely scrumptious. But some of the smaller details still escape her sometimes. Like now. She has no idea what Billie is getting at. 

“Souls.” Billie finally tells her. “Their soul, the spirit with which they carry out their missions, the amount of  _ heart  _ that goes into it, sometimes that is what makes all the difference between winning and losing.”

“Are you saying they just have to want it hard enough?” Amara asks, skeptically, because really, it can’t be that easy.

Billie smiles gently at her, her smiles framed by the tight curls that fall around her face. “Yes, but it’s more than that. The more they want it, the harder they will work to learn all the ins and outs of it, in this case the  _ it  _ is Chuck, so we’ll have to help them out with some of that, of course, but more than that, Mara, these are Sam and Dean Winchester. They’ve yet to fail at anything that Chuck has thrown at them. And now, now that we’ve given them everything they’ve  ever wanted,  I just don’t see how they  _ can  _ fail. I don’t see it happening. Sam and Dean are motivated by the love that they have for each other and they’re motivated by the love that have towards those that they’ve come to call family. Castiel, Bobby, Ellen, Jody, Claire....they’ll fight and subsequently win, for them. That’s what makes them the best heroes the world has ever and will ever know.”

Amara regards her lover carefully. The relationship between them had been born out of proximity. They were both there and to an extent were both lonely. Everyone else was either paired up or too human for either of them to even bother but one day it had dawned on them that they could stand by each other. And sure, if they won...with their life span, they literally had eternity and maybe one would eventually grow bored of the other but for now it was new, it was good, and it was  _ enough  _ and more than anything, it was more than Amara had ever had. 

Amara didn’t see herself growing bored with Billie, the Being was like an onion. You peeled off one layer and there were infinite more underneath. 

“You know I will fight for you, right?” She finally asked quietly. It wasn’t a declaration of love. She wasn’t even sure that beings like that even had the capability of love in them. Maybe it wasn’t in the cards at all but she knew that what she felt went beyond casual friendship. It was a promise. It was  _ something.  _ And she needed Billie to know. 

“I know, γλυκό σκοτάδι,” Billie responded gently. Out of the two, Billie was the more level headed one. One time they’d created their own space, similar to Gabriel’s and had hung out on Mercury. Billie had explained how humans believed the placement of stars and the ways the planets aligned affected the tides of their emotions. To a certain extent they were correct but for the most part it didn’t have any direct correlation. However, she had enjoyed hearing Billie say that if she were human, she’d have been a Gemini. “You’re mercurial”, she told Amara, who sat at the edge and dipped her toes into the inky darkness below her. “Your emotions fluctuate wildly and your imagination is a being all of its own. But all of that is ok, because it will help you understand humans better. You’ll understand why they say one thing and do another. You’ll understand how they can change their minds on a dime.” Amara had watched then as Billie had stood and walked a little way away from her. 

“Far better than I ever will, anyway.”

It was the tone that spurred Amara into action. She didn’t like a defeatist Billie. She was more than that. She was more than a Reaper, more than Death, more than whatever title anyone placed on her. She was stern but merciful, unyielding but flexible, hard but soft; a curmudgeon with a soft gooey center. 

“Hey now.” She’d told her, placing a hand between her wings, “there is plenty that I don’t know and look at how well you’re teaching me. To teach something, you have to know it yourself, so by definition, I think you’re already there.” Her mind had raced slightly as she tried to put into words how ok it was that they were different. 

“You’re like...like the strict dad.”

“Does that make you the fun mom?” 

“Well, I know I won’t send them to any time-outs. Been there, experienced that myself. I’ll leave the punishments up to you.”

They’d smiled at each other  then both thinking about how easily it had been to think of the world as their child. They couldn’t be Chuck, the world had been His creation but they existed too and they could care for it too, they could do right by it. Dean had told them so. And maybe they didn’t know what to do to make the world a better place but watching Chuck taught them what not to do and watching Dean taught them what would make things better. 

Staring into each other’s eyes, they seem to come to a mutual decision. 

_ Try? _

**_ Try.  _ **

_ You won’t let me do wrong by them, right? _

**_ Right. You’ll keep me in check too, right? _ **

_ Right.  _

**_ Promise? _ **

_ Promise. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh, that thing that Billie calls Amara means "sweet darkness" in Greek.


	28. Jack Kerouac

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Relatively short but I do have the next chapter mostly completed and it's longer soooo...

_the road must eventually lead to the whole world_

Gabriel isn’t one for battle. Everyone knows that. That’s why the fact that he’s flown ahead of everyone and is there with his blade out almost makes Sam trip in astonishment. Chuck is laughing. And Sam would be more afraid if he weren’t so grateful for the time it’s giving Claire, Jody, and everyone else the time they need to stealthily make it inside the bunker. 

“What do you think you’re going to do, Gabriel?” Chuck mocks, His hand raised and poised to snap.

Everyone is frozen in place, knowing full well that if Chuck chooses to end Gabriel the odds of them being able to bring him back again will be at zero because now that He knows Gabriel was brought out of the Empty Chuck will do more than merely send him there again. No, the manic look on Chuck’s face lets them know that He’ll likely scatter all of Gabriel’s atoms and grace across the universe, so thoroughly destroyed that all the king’s horses and all the king’s men won’t be enough to put him back together again. 

Sam is fighting every instinct he has to place himself in front of Gabriel. It won’t do a damn thing. His throat feels tight and his eyes water. He has never felt so defeated, useless and incapable. 

A disturbance, a sound fills the air and they turn to find Claire screaming against Henry’s hand as he holds her and doesn’t allow her exit. 

“Ah, the original Winchester is here too. Who else do you have holed up in your little bunker?” Chuck asks, his eyes coldly sweeping over all of them. 

“Like we’d ever tell you.” Dean spats and Sam has to hold back both a smile and a groan at his foolish brother for being so easily rankled. 

“Well, I know you won’t tell me to save yourself, but what about for Sammy here?” Chuck taunts. "You were ready to give yourself up to Michael when Zacariah took away his lungs, remember? I can do much worse."

“No.”

It comes from Gabriel and as their attention goes from Dean to him, Sam feels the air above him vibrate and as his vision shifts from Chuck to the air above him, the last thing he sees on Chuck’s face is how His jaw drops and a strangled “no!” that escapes Him and then just as quickly as He’d shown up, He’s gone. 

It’s a good thing because there’s a buzz growing inside Sam’s mind and he barely notices that he’s suddenly back inside the bunker and back at the war table and everyone is huddled around him and everyone is trying to speak at the same time but he can’t tell if they’re talking to him or at him and it’s too loud until Billie, he’s pretty sure it’s Billie, shouts “Enough!” and then the room goes silent. 

“Now then,” She says, adjusting her jacket with a quick tug of her hand, “Gabriel, will you please enlighten us as to what the ever-loving fuck that was and why it was enough to get your Father to back off?”


End file.
